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AN 


223 


ESSAY ON GENIUS; 


OR, THE 


i3{)ilosopf)j) of Uterature. 


8 V 


JOHN DUNCAN. 




1 


JB** ° f COn ^ 

1867 _ 

^ of w«h\^° W 

EDINBURGH: 

PRINTED FOR WILLIAM BLACKWOOD; 

LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, LONDON £ 
ALEX. BROWN, AND F. FROST, ABERDEEN 5 
AND JOHN BEATTIE, STONEHAVEN. 


r 


181 *. 










ENTERED AT STATIONER’S HALE. 





. _ / ~ 


PREFACE. 


In the following treatise, the author offers 
a new theory of genius, and has endeavour¬ 
ed to fix a certain standard for judging of 
intellectual ability. How far he has suc¬ 
ceeded, the public will judge. All that he 
requests is their attention, trusting that the 
importance of the subject will form a suf¬ 
ficient apology for obtruding himself upon 
their notice. 

In enforcing opinions not generally re¬ 
ceived, he has been under the necessity of 
a 2 




IV 


PREFACE. 


entering more deeply or abstrusely into the 
subject, than he otherwise would have done; 
but he flatters himself the illustrations he 
has given, will render his positions obvious, 
even to those least accustomed to think 
on such subjects. 


CHAPTER I. 


The true dignity of man consists in mental excellence ; 
and difference of mind is the only real difference be¬ 
tween men 


CHAP. II. 

One idea equal to another ; subjects differ only in com¬ 
plexity ------- 


CHAP. III. 

The importance of order in mental operations 


CHAP. IV. 

The improvement of the mind, or education - 
CHAP. V. 

Memory the concomitant of education or experience; 
dependant on judgment, or strength of mind 
a 3 




CONTENTS. 


CHAP. VI. 


Page* 


Classification the great instrument of judgment « 65 


CHAP VII. 

The greatness of minds known by the extent of objects 
which they embrace; or by their capability of 
tracing one cause, or arranging one set of facts 74 


CHAP. VIII. 

The mind excels in all things, according to its strength 99 
CHAP. IX. 

The mind governed by the passions, and directed by 
accident - - - . . . - 115 


CHAP. X. 

Labour necessary to attain excellence; and merit, to 
acquire fame - - - . - „ jjg 


CHAP. XI. 

The mind excels only by the appropriation of its 
powers - • * . » _ 232 

CHAP. XII. 

The treating of simple subjects no less peculiar to infe¬ 
rior minds, than that of extensive to superior - 143 

CHAP. XIII. 

Some minds have too much genius for some subjects 


350 


CONTENTS, 


vii 

Page. 


CHAP. XIV. 

Genius not to be estimated by the degree of pleasure 

which any production affords • - - 167 

CHAP. XV. 

Judgment and imagination only different applications 
of the mind - - - - - - IS I 

CHAP. XVI. 

Fancy but an inferior degree of judgment, and subser¬ 
vient to a higher - - - - - - -190 

CHAP. XVII. 

Difference of subject creates difference of success, and 
enables one mind to excel another - 206 

CHAP. XVIII. 

Corporeal talents to be distinguished from mental - 226 

CHAP. XIX. 

The importance of habit; some studies disqualify for 
others - -- -- -- - 241 


CHAP. XX. 

The universal criterion of genius - 


2.54 




AN 


ESSAY 

os 

GENIUS; 

OR, THE 

\ 

PHILOSOPHY OF LITERATURE 


CHAPTER I. 

THE TRUE DIGNITY OF MAN CONSISTS IN MENTAL 
EXCELLENCE; AND DIFFERENCE OF BIIND IS THE 
ONLY REAL DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BIEN. 


Moral science may be divided into three 
branches :—the theory of Evidence; the the¬ 
ory of Morality; and the scale of Ability. 

The two former are considered as the 
more important. The latter has, indeed, 
been treated more as a subject of fancy than 
of science, and hence the many errors which 
prevail upon it. 


B 




10 


Among the chief of these are those poeti¬ 
cal rather than philosophical ideas, by which 
the mind is divided into a number of facul¬ 
ties, each inhabiting its own cell, and having 
no connection with another. The faculties 
of the mind are, in general, said to be judg¬ 
ment, memory , imagination , &c.; but their 
number seems capable of no other limita¬ 
tion than the arbitrary will of the person 
who makes the division. 

The usual consequence of philosophical 
enquiry is to unite a multitude of pheno¬ 
mena or facts under one denomination. It 
may, therefore, be presumed, that this mul¬ 
tiplication of faculties arises from limited 
views, and that a more extensive enquiry 
would trace them to a common origin. 

The following Treatise is intended to prove 
the unity of the intellectual powers. We 
hope to be able to produce the most satis¬ 
factory proof, that the seeming diversity of 
mental faculties arises from the various ob¬ 
jects and circumstances to which the mind 
is directed ; and that these, however differ- 


11 

ent, induce no change on the intellect it¬ 
self. 

In treating of genius, or the various de¬ 
grees of human ability, we ought, in the first 
place, to endeavour to ascertain whether 
there exists any original difference between 
the intellect of one man and that of another, 
arising from the peculiar nature of the mind 
itself; or whether all difference of mental 
talent does not proceed from the influence 
of external circumstances, including among 
these the effects of constitution. In this 
case, however, research must, in one re¬ 
spect, prove fruitless. Mental and physical 
operations are so intimately blended, that 
we can never discover the exact degree of 
influence to be ascribed to the mind or to the 
body. Taking it for granted that the mind 
is different from the body/ although whe- 
B 2 

1 We have equal evidence for the existence of that assem° 
blage of qualities called the mind, as for the existence of that 
called matter. The most distinguishing property of the mind 
is the susceptibility of pleasure and pain; of matter, exten- 


12 


ther or not is immaterial to this enquiry; 
yet, as the former never acts separately from 
the latter, it is impossible to discover if it 
possesses any peculiarities arising from its 
own nature or not. But while all mental 
capacity may be referred to the nature of 
the constitution, as well as to the strength 
of the mind, it is remarkable that intellec¬ 
tual deficiency may be ascribed to the for¬ 
mer of these causes. While sedateness of 
temper fixes us to ideas, it may also obstruct 
their conception ; and while vivacity enables 
us to receive impressions, it may prevent us 
from attending to them.* 

A multitude of causes concur, however, 
to prove the important fact of the existence 
of some original difference of ability, arising 
either from the peculiar nature of the mind 


sion. These qualities appear so different, that not even a 
comparison can be drawn between them. The most judicious, 
therefore, have held them to belong to distinct substances, if 
such a thing as substance exists. 

2 Both reasons are given for the intellectual deficiency of 
hrutes. 


13 


or the body, but most probably from that 
of the former. We find one man more 
susceptible of education, naturally more pe¬ 
netrating and distinct, and capable of car¬ 
rying his ideas farther, than another. We 
may, therefore, safely admit two species of 
ability; the natural , and the acquired . 

This original difference of talent does not, 
however, seem great. In nature there are 
no prodigies. The various species are con¬ 
nected by gradual links, and the varieties of 
any particular species confined to narrow 
limits. The difference of intellectual ability 
is not, in all probability, naturally greater 
than that of stature. Yet this difference is 
important; and if the influence of external 
circumstances be added, is sufficient to ac¬ 
count for the most extraordinary instances 
of genius which have appeared in the world. 
The effect of cultivation on the mind is great 
—the power of industry immense. The most 
splendid talents are, therefore, perhaps no¬ 
thing more than those lucky habits which 
correspond with excellence. 

b 3 


14 


Connected with the subject of genius there 
is one point left in the most vague and unsa¬ 
tisfactory state, and which it may not be 
improper to settle here; that is, personal 
dignity, or that greatness which has been so 
much talked of, and so little understood. 
Personal greatness may be of two kinds. It 
may arise either from the possession of great 
talents, or of some other quality which has 
an important influence on the happiness of 
mankind. The latter species again may suf¬ 
fer division into great actions, and great 
possessions. The first of these may be con¬ 
sidered as better evidence of superior ta¬ 
lents than the second, though neither can 
be considered as good. 

But, it the mind be held as different from 
the body, intellectual ability can be viewed as 
constituting the only real personal dignity. 
All other is to be looked upon as fictitious; 
and the term great , as applied to it, an in¬ 
stance of the abuse of words. 

Mankind are, indeed, sensible of the 
charms of intellectual importance, and that 


15 


wisdom and knowledge constitute human 
greatness. Every person prefers the repu¬ 
tation of ability to that of virtue, and would 
suffer the imputation of vice rather than of 
folly ;—every person is sensible that to im¬ 
prove his mind is to raise him in the scale 
of existence, and that to increase intellectual 
acquisition is the only means of exalting a 
reasonable being. 

Adventitious and extrinsic qualities are, 
however, often confounded with personal, 
and the things possessed taken for the pos¬ 
sessor. Thus, a king is called great, be¬ 
cause he has the direction of every thing 
important to a considerable portion of man¬ 
kind, and the means of rendering many 
happy or miserable ; although, at the same 
time, in intellectual qualities, he may be 
inferior to the majority of his subjects. 

There is certainly a greatness of things, 
as well as of minds, because there are differ¬ 
ences among them; but we can never ac¬ 
quire a title to their importance. External 
objects can, by no mode of possession, be 
B 4 


16 


assimilated to the intellect, nov can they, to 
any great extent, even fall within our power, 
or minister to our enjoyment. In whatever 
manner a person may apply wealth, or exer¬ 
cise authority, it can produce merely refine¬ 
ment of those pleasures which are common 
to all mankind ; for nature always constrains 
him to remain within those precincts which 
she has assigned to individuals ; and he can 
be great to others only, as an inanimate ob¬ 
ject can be, by forwarding, or obstructing, 
their happiness. 

Those who hold elevated situations attract 
our attention more by the splendour of their 
rank than by their ability, and it is rather their 
station and circumstances which we admire 
than themselves. Even heroes and con¬ 
querors, and the majority of those charac¬ 
ters which appear in the roll of fame, must 
be considered only as marking those revolu¬ 
tions which are continually happening from 
the motion of things, and as indicating great 
events rather than great minds. For it is 
obvious to the slightest reflection, that, in 


17 


this case, opportunity holds the first rank, 
ability only the second, and that Darius 
might have been Alexander had he com¬ 
manded an army of Grecians. 

No one feels himself satisfied with regard 
to the abilities of the powerful and success¬ 
ful, from the evidence of power and success 
alone. We still wish to have an opportu¬ 
nity oi judging of them by their conversa¬ 
tion, or literary attempts, which are the best 
means of obtaining a perfect knowledge of 
the mind. Literature is the fairest test of 
mental ability, and real greatness; because 
no fortuitous, cause can assist the labours of 
the mind, or whatever assistance an author 
derives from circumstances can easily be per¬ 
ceived and made allowance for: But to 
judge of any person’s intellectual powers by 
those actions in which he has been engaged, 
is a very remote manner of estimating their 
value. Events form but an imperfect index 
to the mind, and we often take good fortune 
for capacity. A general may be victorious 
bv the advice, care, or ability of his officers; 


18 


by the superior number or spirit of his men ; 
by the neglect of his antagonist ; 3 by the 
advantages of his situation; or by a thou¬ 
sand other circumstances which are neither 
dependant on him, nor perceivable by others. 
A statesman again may be successful from 
the temperature of the times, or the concur¬ 
rence of causes which are unconnected with 
his determinations, and over which he has 
no control. 

Success is not the same in literature as in 
life. In the former, it must depend upon 
ourselves ; in the latter, it may depend upon 
things. Many men also, from particular 
habits and constitutional peculiarities, are 
not prudent in proportion to their capacity. 
The talents, therefore, of such, suffer great 
injustice among those who judge by the 
event. We are, in general, so much dazzled 

3 The world is filled with characters whose celebrity depends 
upon the deficiency of their antagonists. It is also a vulgar 
error to ascribe so much to generalship. Discipline may be 
necessary as a subordinate cause; but, in all battles, victory 
is chiefly decided by courage. 


19 


by the lustre of great events, that the con¬ 
duct of every person, when fortunate, seems 
wise. Each accidental success, whether pro¬ 
ceeding from coincidence of circumstances, 
or peculiarity of character, is ascribed to wis¬ 
dom and deliberate design; while, on the con¬ 
trary, it is difficult to save the reputation of the 
unfortunate,even among the most impartial . 4 
But those who wish justly to estimate cha¬ 
racters, will endeavour to divest themselves 
of this prejudice. They will judge of men 
rather by their reasoning than by their con¬ 
duct, and examine more their understandings 
than their passions ; for, as there are many 
persons who can think but cannot act, pru¬ 
dence of conduct, and those talents best 
adapted to active scenes, will perhaps be 
found to depend more upon constitutional 
character than upon deliberative wisdom . 5 

4 The difference between a mad attempt and a gloriou* 
action depends upon success. 

5 Human nature is, no doubt, composed of body as well as 
of mind, and active faculties are, perhaps, as important as 
contemplative; but still it is necessary to keep them sepa- 


£0 


Success would, indeed, be a mark of supe¬ 
rior abilities, could it be shown that it were 
independent of concurring circumstances, 
and that the difficulties surmounted were 
great; but, in active concerns, so many 
causes, different from personal talent, have 
an influence, that no conclusion drawn from 
them can, with regard to the mind, be de¬ 
pended on. There may, indeed, sometimes, 
be degrees of real greatness in the merit of 
rising in the world ; but there is oftener no¬ 
thing more than good fortune, or a cast of 
character, which coincides with the situation 
of things and the dispositions of men. 

To succeed in life, the most probable 
means is to go with the stream. Worldly 
wisdom consists, not in thinking justly or 
acting reasonably, according to extensive 
views, but in humouring the times. Servi¬ 
lity is, in general, the shortest road to pre¬ 
ferment; and intrigue, in most cases, an 

rate. The maxim, “ judge of a person by his actions and not 
by his words,” must apply to morals rather than to ability. 


21 


overmatch for ability . 6 An artful man re¬ 
gards the end more than the means, and 
depends, for success, upon pliancy rather 
than talent; while a person of ability, judg¬ 
ing of mankind by himself, imagines that 
merit is all that is necessary to acquire con¬ 
sideration, and values himself upon his inte¬ 
grity and independence. A man of sense 
naturally perceives the beauty of noble and 
praise-w r orthy actions; and genius is general¬ 
ly accompanied by an inflexible pride of 
sentiment, and propensity to integrity and 
honourable conduct. Besides, where there 
are strong ideas and great vigour of mind, 
there are commonly strong passions and 
ungovernable opinions. Mental exertion, 
therefore, often impels to actions inconsistent 
with the ordinary progress of things. 

Those who are most successful in life, fre¬ 
quently possess a contracted ness of mind 
which renders it suitable to all circumstances, 

6 What are, indeed, the boasted dissimulation and art of 
politicians, but falsehood and dishonesty ? 


22 


coniines its powers to a narrow circle, and 
concentrates them always at the point of 
action. The common business of life is 
chiefly managed by habit and imitation, and 
a talent for it is often the emblem of a small 
mind. The great employment of mankind 
is to live. Industry, therefore, will always 
be more valued than capacity. But, per¬ 
haps, rank and riches are oftener determined 
by the circumstance of birth than by any 
extraordinary exertion or ability. 

Even the possession of virtue, which is 
much more valuable than either power or 
riches, cannot confer greatness on any one; 
and it is a misapplication of terms to be¬ 
stow the appellation of great upon a person 
entitled only to that of good? Virtue is 
merely a habit of the mind, or a species 
of education which is useful to mankind. 
Virtue, therefore, can display no extent of 

7 Pope says, “ An honest man is the noblest work of God.” 
This has a fine sound, but nothing more. There is a cheat 
in common morality of which every candid person must be 
ashamed. 


23 


thought, or intricacy of ideas. Men are 
prone to flatter each other for qualities which 
are useful or pleasing, and hence arises their 
profusion of commendation to those who are 
virtuous ; but if we suppose the mind in it¬ 
self unchangeable, its original force can nei¬ 
ther be encreased by virtue nor diminished 
by vice—affected by praise nor dispraise. 
All the greatness of which man is capable 
belongs neither to his habits nor other cir¬ 
cumstances, but to his understanding; and 
he who possesses such greatness can, by no 
concurrence of things, be deprived of it. 

Intellectual talents, however, are not of- 
tener unjustly degraded, than exalted, by 
foreign causes; and we have generally oc¬ 
casion to be on our guard against imposition 
of one species or another. Of this class is 
reputation, derived from inflated sentiment, 
such as the saying of Alexander, that he 
would contend at the Olympic games, if 
kings were his competitors . 8 This is univer- 

8 By which he evidently meant to contend in rank and not 
in skill, and to oppose adventitious qualities to personal. 


u 


sally termed magnanimity, but is merely 
vanity, or conceit; and such conduct always 
receives that appellation in those who hold 
inferior stations in life. Passions and habits 
ought, however, to be distinguished from 
judgment. Greatness of mind consists only 
in the superior power of discrimination,— 
not in admiring or despising, loving or 
hating, of which all men are equally capable. 

Nothing is indeed truly important in hu¬ 
man nature, but mental ability. By the 
original force of mind which men derive 
from nature is their future greatness entire¬ 
ly determined ; for what men do not accom¬ 
plish by the power of their minds, must be 
ascribed to some foreign quality from which 
they can claim no merit. 

On the same native superiority depends, 
in the first instance, the extent of that im¬ 
provement which is not the least remarkable 
peculiarity of the human understanding, and 
which serves chiefly to distinguish mankind 
from the lower ranks of the creation. The 
inferior animals, as they are evidently in- 


25 


tended to act within a narrow circle, soon 
acquire reason sufficient for it, and reach 
the limits of their cultivation. The minds 
of beasts are so incapable of abstraction, 
and their perceptions arise so immediately 
from their senses, that they attain maturity 
along with their bodies; and as soon as their 
instincts are complete, their understandings 
have arrived at their perfection. But the 
human mind contains higher powers, and 
admits of greater extension; for, after the 
means of information which the senses fur¬ 
nish are exhausted, it retains the power of 
increasing its knowledge by its own inherent 
exercise. The perfection of the mind of 
man does not depend upon the maturation 
of his senses, but on that of experience; and 
his mental faculties are capable of improve¬ 
ment as long as they continue to be exer¬ 
cised. 

The expansion of the intellect is, indeed, 
liable to be affected by those casualties which 
influence its exertion; and minds are ren- 

c 


26 

dered different not less by education than 
by nature. 

Yet circumstances never actually affect 
the original degree of ability. As all edu¬ 
cation is but information concerning the 
state of things, they can only assist or retard 
its developement. But before N entering on 
the subject of education, it may be proper 
to say something on the nature of external 
objects, and those qualities which occasion 
intellectual exertion. 


CHAPTER II. 


©NE IDEA EQUAL TO ANOTHERSUBJECTS DIFFER 
ONLY IN COMPLEXITY. 

One idea is not more difficult of conception 
than another. The idea of a mountain and 
the idea of a grain of sand are conceived 
with equal ease. The mind is affected only 
by the relation of qualities; continuity and 
uniformity are indifferent to it. It is not 
magnitude but number—the separation and 
division of things—which engages its atten¬ 
tion, and furnishes the materials of its ope¬ 
ration. All our ideas are merely intellectual 
properties called into exercise by the sug¬ 
gestion of external objects. They are all 
equally abstracted from physical objects, and 
occupy, it may be said, for the sake of illus¬ 
tration, the same portion of the mind, 
c 2 


28 


All subjects are, therefore, more or less 
difficult of comprehension, merely as they 
contain a greater or less number of different 
parts, and furnish many or few ideas; and 
all things possess complexity only as they 
possess variety. Thus, in viewing an ex¬ 
tensive building, it is not the same to the 
mind as to the eye. The operation of the 
eye may be obstructed by the physical diffi¬ 
culties of vision, such as light or shade, by 
intervening objects* or by the extent and 
magnificence of the fabric: But the difficulty 
of the mind must be the labour of selecting 
its various parts, of removing their confu¬ 
sion, and arranging them according to their 
natural dependance upon each other. How¬ 
ever extensive any object may be, or how¬ 
ever far any landscape may spread, or edi¬ 
fice extend, it may still be easy of concep¬ 
tion ; for, if all its parts be the same, they 
are but as one part; and without diversity 
there can be no discrimination. 

What is great in nature is not always dif¬ 
ficult to the mind. Notwithstanding the 


29 


suffrage of Longinus, there appears no un¬ 
common degree of talent in the passage,— 

“ Far as a shepherd from some point on high. 

O’er the wide main extends his boundless eye. 

Thro’ such a space of air, with thund’ring sound. 

At one long leap th’ immortal coursers bound 

Nor in his attempt to surpass it, when he 
says,—“ and who, considering the superla¬ 
tive magnificence of this thought, would not, 
with good reason, cry out, that if the steeds 
of the Deity were to take a second leap, the 
world itself would want room for it.”* 

Physical and moral importance are very 
different from intellectual. Physical consists 
in quantity; moral in event; and intellectual 
in number . Things may be both physically 
and morally important, without being intel¬ 
lectually important; that is, an object may 
be extensive, or an event violent, without 
C 3 

9 Nothing is so cheap and vulgar as descriptions of exten¬ 
sion or magnitudes To such contentions as that between Lon¬ 
ginus and Homer, there is no end. However great any object 
may be, it is easy to conceive a greater. 


30 


being complex. Physical importance, for 
the most part, regulates moral importance, 
but never intellectual. 

The view which the mind takes of objects 
is, however, sometimes arbitrary or acci¬ 
dental. It may either view many things as 
one, or one thing as many. Thus, an army 
may be considered in whole, or with rela¬ 
tion to the individuals composing it; but the 
difficulty of conception will always be in 
proportion to the number of ideas. Some¬ 
times the reduction of any set of ideas to a 
single idea, is accomplished by a long pro¬ 
cess of reasoning. Simplification is, in fact, 
the object of all science, and one of the 
modes in which genius is best displayed. 
But although it may be difficult to reach a 
conclusion, it is, when attained, easily under¬ 
stood. The natural progress of the mind, 
however, is, first, to view all objects which 
the senses can grasp, as single, and after¬ 
wards to examine more minutely their parts 
in detail. 

As magnitude is unconnected with diffi- 


31 


culty of conception, there appears no quality 
in ideas which dignifies one more than ano¬ 
ther. Thus the distinction of high and low 
wit arises merely from confounding mate¬ 
rial qualities with mental; for wit is the 
same, on every subject, in proportion as it 
discovers excellence of thought Such a 
distinction belongs merely to the objects al¬ 
luded to, and forms no application to the 
efforts of the mind; for, considered intel¬ 
lectually, there can be no difference between 
the apophthegm of the peasant and that of 
the courtier, excepting the degrees of com¬ 
prehension and acuteness displayed in each. 
Parmenio said, " I would accept these pro¬ 
posals if I were Alexander/’ So would I,” 
replied Alexander, “ if I were Parmenio.” 
This is an instance of high or dignified wit, 
because regarding things important. The 
often quoted passage of Hudibras, 

“ And, like a lobster boil'd, the mom 

From black to red began to turn," 

again, is an instance of low wit, being ex¬ 
pressly intended to degrade. Yet the acute- 
<? 4 


32 

ness in the former idea does not show sa 
much strength of mind as that comprehen¬ 
sion which appears in the latter. 

Wit, indeed, receives a value from the 
quality of the objects on which it is exercised. 
The most brilliant flashes of imagination are 
sometimes insufficient to compensate the dis^ 
agreeable ideas which disgustful allusions 
create ; and often, while we admire the su¬ 
perstructures of wit, we lament the coarse¬ 
ness of the materials of which they are com¬ 
posed. For these imperfections, however, 
genius is not accountable, as it is merely by 
accidental association that mental exertions 
are united to those things which are dis¬ 
agreeable; and the intrinsic qualities of the 
intellect, and those of the objects of its inge«* 
unity, must remain for ever separated. 


CHAPTER III. 


THE IMPORTANCE OF ORDER IN MENTAL OPERA¬ 
TIONS. 

Order is necessarily connected with num¬ 
ber; and receives its value from the assist¬ 
ance which it gives to comprehension. 

The mind is limited: one acquisition is, 
in some degree, always balanced by the loss 
of a former; and, although attainment is, on 
the whole, progressive, the intellect is ca¬ 
pable of containing only a certain number 
of images. On that very intricate subject, 
arithmetic, it can pass through but a very 
few parts without noting its steps by figures. 
Only one idea can indeed be present at a 
time. The most extensive contemplation 
appears to be nothing more than a succes¬ 
sion and transition of individual thoughts. 


34 

It has been remarked, that the art of 
thinking is to attempt but little at once. 
Order, by dividing extensive subjects into 
parts, suits them to the grasp of the mind, 
and leads it forward by gradual steps. 

Without order, we should never reach an 
idea of the plan of nature. All would be a 
confused mass, appearing boundless, and de¬ 
fying equally the judgment and the memo¬ 
ry , 1 Order di&covers the relation which one 
object or event bears to another, puts all 
things in their proper places, and offers them 
to the mind, like the tools of a workman, 
without the trouble of a search. 

Order is the essence of science, or it may 
be called science itself; for what would 
science be without order. In the military 
art, it constitutes strength. In business, it 
produces dispatch and ease; and where it is 
not demanded as a requisite, it is sought as 
an ornament. In order, consists one of the 
principles of beauty—regularity. The de- 

1 Many plans have been devised for the improvement of 
memory, but none are effectual except order. 


35 


light which we have in viewing the array 
of an army, or the uniform disposition of 
cultivated fields, arises from the utility of 
arrangement, and the relation which we 
perceive between the means and the end. 
Method is valued even in the most trifling 
sciences. In dancing and music, it is what 
chiefly pleases. 

But, in literature, and those employmentSr 
which more immediately represent the mind, 
the effects of order are most conspicuous. 
When extensive subjects are arranged in 
such a manner, that one cause naturally leads 
to another, and every succeeding idea is 
suggested by the immediately preceding, 
comprehension follows without effort, or by 
necessity. But if the labour of arrangement 
be left to the reader in any piece of compo¬ 
sition, nothing is accomplished towards di¬ 
minishing the natural difficulty of the sub¬ 
ject, and every exertion of the mind remains 
to be made upon it. 

Connection is, indeed, no less necessary than 
order. When transition is sudden or violent. 


36 

the chain of ideas is broken; but when it is 
gradual and easy, our progress is impercep¬ 
tible. But connection and order are inse¬ 
parable. The rule of order is to place near-; 
est, or in succession, those things which 
differ least, or are most connected.* 

Order may be said to be the first of inteh 
lectual laws. In literature, order is beauty ; 
in science, demonstration. In it, are includ¬ 
ed every energy and excellence of the art of 
thinking. Those, therefore, who wish to 
excel in composition, oratory, or argument, 
should make it their chief study; for, as all 
conception is only a knowledge of the rela¬ 
tion which parts bear to each other, no sub¬ 
ject can be understood until its parts be 
arranged. 

2 Order has several laws, or connection may be said to 
arise from various causes, viz. time, causation, and importance. 
But for precepts or reasoning, there is scarcely any absolute 
order; as it is said, *' from any one truth, all truth may bp 
inferred.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND, OR EDUCATION. 

Education forms the greatest change which 
takes place on the mind; and under that term 
may be comprehended every improvement 
arising from the contemplation of nature, as 
well as that derived from books or instruct¬ 
ors. 

Man has been called the creature of cir¬ 
cumstances. The mind comes into the world 
naked and destitute of ideas. All ability 
depends upon knowledge; every accom¬ 
plishment is an attainment; every talent, an 
acquirement. 

Ability may, however, be said to be of two 
kinds ; natural , 3 as well as acquired. Both 

3 «-What high capacious powers 


Lie folded up in man- 





38 


are equally accidental; the first arising from 
the original frame of the mind or body; the 
second, from opportunity of improvement 
united with industry. 

Learning is, by some, taken for a proof of 
capacity; and it is certain that facility and 
extent of acquisition are proportionate to the 
natural aptitude of the mind. 

The expansion of the intellect resembles 
the spreading of flame. Fire arises from a 
spark, and, by embracing matter, kindles 
into conflagration. The mind is called into 
exercise by receiving the impression of sur¬ 
rounding objects; and, by extending expe¬ 
rience, it raises itself to the height of wisdom. 

Wisdom is slowly attained. We cannot 
be wise upon any subject without having 
thought long upon it. One remark produces 
and corrects another, till, by continued re¬ 
flection, we are carried forward, fr<5m dis¬ 
tinction to discovery, as far as it is possible to 
penetrate. The more we think and study, 
the more we increase knowledge and im¬ 
prove discernment; as the mind, from the 


S9 


desire of changing its ideas, cannot dwell 
long upon any subject without perceiving 
something new. To understand any science 
is but to know ail the facts regarding it. 
When we continue to think on a particular 
subject, every difficulty which arises in the 
discussion requires a solution, every opposi¬ 
tion makes a distinction, until our ideas are 
modelled into system. The mind must be 
long exercised in making experiments, ba¬ 
lancing facts, and forming analogies, before 
it can establish an opinion; and remain long 
attentive to the fluctuation of events, before 
it can form settled ideas of the scheme of 
things. 

Wisdom always presupposes experience ; 
and is merely a collection of maxims which 
the mind has been able to draw from its ob¬ 
servation of the operations of nature. Ex¬ 
perience is the foundation of reasoning, and 
knowledge the first step towards excellence 
in every science. A poet, an orator, a critic, 
or a logician, should know every thing; or 
at least his art will depend on the extent of 


40 


his knowledge. To inform the mind must 
be preparatory to every occupation. With¬ 
out an extensive range of information, no 
person can rise above mediocrity in any 
pursuit in which the intellect is engaged. It 
is variety of knowledge which actuates all 
the powers of the mind, which stimulates 
every talent, and draws forth all its perfec¬ 
tions ;—by which the cases which illustrate, 
the analogies which elucidate,and the similes 
which ennoble, are furnished;—by which 
eloquence is fed, reasoning supplied, and 
wisdom established . 4 

4 The following panegyric on the benevolent Howard, is a 
splendid specimen of the application of knowledge.—“ I 
cannot name this gentleman” (says Mr. Burke) “ without 
remarking that his labours and writings have done much to 
open the eyes and hearts of mankind. He has visited all 
Europe—not to survey the sumptuousness of palaces, or the 
stateliness of temples; not to make accurate measurements of 
the remains of ancient grandeur, nor to form a scale of the 
curiosity of modern art; not to collect medals, or collate ma¬ 
nuscripts; but to dive into the depth of dungeons; to plunge 
into the infection of hospitals; to survey the mansions of sor¬ 
row and pain; to take the gauge and dimensions of misery, 
depression, and contempt; to remember the forgotten; to 


41 

All things in nature bear a relation to each 
other, either in quality or operation. As the 
particles of fire combine to produce heat and 
light, so do things in elucidating each other. 
Those who have a general acquaintance with 
the sciences can, in some degree, apply their 
knowledge to every thing. He who pos¬ 
sesses an extensive range of information can 
never be taken by surprise. An enlarged 
mind views all nature, perceives, at a glance, 
whether every thing be in its proper place; 
and no phenomenon can present itself, or 
hypothesis arise, which it will not have the 
means to solve or examine. 

D 

attend to the neglected; to visit the forsaken; and to com* 
pare and collate the distresses of all men in all countries. His 
plan is original; and it is as full of genius as it is of humanity. 
It is a voyage of discovery; a circumnavigation of charity. 
Already the benefit of his labour is felt more or less in every 
country. I hope he will anticipate his final reward by seeing 
all its effects fully realized in his own. He will receive, not 
by retail, but in gross, the reward of those who visit the pri¬ 
soner ; and he has so forestalled and monopolized this branch 
of charity, that there will be, I trust, little room to merit by 
such acts of benevolence hereafter.” 


Whatever widens analogy, increases the 
materials of both judgment and invention. 
The more extensive our combinations and 
comparisons are, the more accurate will be 
our determinations, and the more acute our 
remarks on any thing which becomes the 
object of our reflection ; the more successful 
every effort, and the more brilliant every 
production of the mind. 

So nearly related is knowledge to ability, 
that it is, indeed, impossible to conceive any 
view of remote objects, to acquire any spe¬ 
cies of information, or to attain any idea of 
science, which does not tend to confirm or 
correct our opinions, to enable us to unite 
facts, enlarge theory, or to produce any va¬ 
riety of combination which novelty may 
demand. In short, as all the operations of 
the system of things arise from general and 
similar principles, each idea reflects a light 
upon another, and the whole analogy of 
nature combines to enrich every particular 
subject. Such are, indeed, the connection, 
the ‘similarity, and the commixture of the 


43 


different parts of nature, that a person can¬ 
not acquire a knowledge of any one parti¬ 
cular subject, without, at the same time, 
acquiring a certain degree of knowledge of 
another; and it seems impossible fully to 
understand any science without understand¬ 
ing every. A mathematician, a chemist, or 
a physician, if he be nothing more, can sel¬ 
dom excel, even in his own profession. 

Without learning, the mind must neces^ 
sarily be confined to the narrow circle of 
individual experience. There are, indeed, 
instances of great poets having appeared in 
very rude ages ; 5 but it is apparent that 
excellence, independent of education, is con¬ 
fined to poetry alone, and even to that spe¬ 
cies of it which is merely descriptive or nar¬ 
rative. From that sort of merit which is 
required in poetry, it may be excellent, and 
yet of a confined nature; but, as all other 
sciences demand a degree of cultivated rea¬ 
son which depends on general analogy, it is 
D 2 


5 Ossian, 


44 


impossible to excel in them without some 
aid in addition to individual reflection. A 
person originally ignorant of every science 
may, indeed, by applying all the strength of 
his mind to it, make considerable progress 
in a particular subject; and on that subject 
his education is to be considered as complete. 
But the want of general knowledge will still 
be evident in his productions; it will be 
found that his mind is, in a great measure, 
sunk to poverty of ideas; that all his attempts 
stand separated from the rest of nature; that 
they are meagre, devoid of ornament and 
illustration/ 

The sciences naturally derive aid from 
each other, and the illustrative part of every 
subject is borrowed from another. Every 
peculiarity of science, every historical fact, 
every picture of polite letters, serves to sti¬ 
mulate the mind, and tends to vary its re¬ 
flections; to create a wise remark, or furnish 
a hint which may be expanded in our own 
compositions. Without variety of know- 

* The works of Burns may be here referred to. 


45 


ledge, therefore, every performance must be 
deficient in those allusions in which the 
beauty of literature consists . 7 

But although learning furnishes a great 
diversity of experience, and an extensive 
set of objects, incidents, and relations, cal¬ 
culated to exercise the intellect in every 
variety of mode, and try it in every shape; 
yet without that native energy, that keen¬ 
ness of remark, and retentive quality—call¬ 
ed genius, it* is impossible for the most ex¬ 
tensive field of information to render the 
mind productive of original ideas. It be¬ 
comes necessary, therefore, to observe, that 
all minds are not equally capable of acqui¬ 
sition, nor fitted for the same degree of 
improvement. Experience does indeed uni¬ 
formly increase wisdom, but only in a degree 
relative to capacity. Different minds em¬ 
brace nature in different degrees. The ex¬ 
tent of attainment is various;—between one 
D 3 

7 “ As if their labours, because gigantic, could contend 
with truth and heaven,” is a beautiful allusion in Junius. 


46 

rank of science or character and another— 
between Whiston and Newton, Blackmore 
and Pope. 

The acquirements of the mind are, how¬ 
ever, as much diversified by its means of 
information as by the original strength of 
its capacity. When we consider the nume¬ 
rous circumstances by which its expansion 
may be assisted or retarded, and the various 
species of experience which serve to com¬ 
pose the general substance of knowledge, 
nothing will appear more liable to inci¬ 
dental difference than mental characteristic. 
Education undoubtedly forms the chief of 
those casualties which affect the fortunes 
of literary men. Such is the importance 
of its influence on the human mind, that 
a very ordinary capacity, by receiving all 
the culture of which it is capable, may be 
exalted to a very high degree of respec¬ 
tability ; while the greatest genius may, 
by being engaged in the lower occupations 
of life, be so degraded, as to remain un¬ 
distinguished from the crowd of mankind. 


47 

The want of education must have precluded 
those who possessed the greatest talents from 
the temple of Fame. Divested of it, we may 
suppose Newton to have remained, perhaps, 
a sagacious hind; Milton, a rustic ballad- 
maker ; and Shakespeare, a miserable seene- 
shifter. 

Since, therefore, the circumstances which 
form the mind are so variable and so im¬ 
portant, attention and acuteness will be ne¬ 
cessary to distinguish whether want of ac¬ 
quisition indicates want of ability, or want 
of opportunity. The sciences furnish that 
sort of artificial experience, commonly call¬ 
ed education, by which a knowledge of 
things may be attained without either the 
same ability or length of time that is neces¬ 
sary to derive it from nature. That classic 
fication of the objects of nature, which goes 
by the name of the sciences, is the work 
of thousands. By it, a person, in a short 
period, becomes master of the combined 
remarks and reflections of mankind for ages. 
General improvement is slow, and the pro- 
D 4 


48 


gress of human knowledge gradual; but all 
the wisdom of the species is soon acquired 
by an individual. So easy is it to learn , so 
difficult to discover or invent , that a person 
who has received a scientific education, and 
a person self-educated, will seem entirely 
different beings. 

Hence, in comparing the abilities of 
different individuals, it is necessary to be 
informed whether their knowledge has been 
collected immediately from nature, or re¬ 
ceived through the medium of the sci¬ 
ences. In the same manner, to form a just 
discrimination between the capacity of per¬ 
sons who have lived in ages remote from 
each other, we should previously ascertain 
the state of learning in the one age and in 
the other. For, without this precaution, 
the great and the mean may change circum¬ 
stances, and the latter take the place of the 
former. 

But, in the difficult task of marking the 
original differences of ability, some general 
rule may, perhaps, be discovered. We may 


49 


conclude that those persons are of a superior 
order of genius, who, besides the acquisitions 
of education, possess a fund of ideas, remarks, 
and opinions of their own. Those, again, 
may be held of inferior rank, whom va¬ 
cancy of mind, and imbecility of intellect, 
have rendered capable of showing education 
alone—as a mirror reflects merely those ob¬ 
jects which are presented to it, and as many 
opaque bodies shine with a borrowed lustre. 
While some rest their claims to fame upon 
their reasoning and reflection, others value 
themselves entirely upon their learning, and 
are content with the reputation of being able 
to comprehend what rules inculcate. A 
mind of a superior class will always indicate 
its rank by looking beyond its education ; 
while a weak mind will betray itself by ap¬ 
pearing to be absorbed and confined within 
the compass of that science which it has been 
accidentally led to study, by its deficiency 
of general ideas, and ignorance of the ana¬ 
logy of nature. The mathematician who 
derived no other pleasure from the perusal 


50 


of the /Eneid than tracing the progress of 
iEneas on the map, and he who, after read¬ 
ing the tragedy of Iphigenia, asked what 
principle in morals or physics it illustrated, 
were as deficient in genius as in taste. 

There is no person of any original strength 
of capacity who will not, under every disad¬ 
vantage of circumstances, possess a scope of 
thought and set of principles, peculiar to 
himself, and relative to his ability; and such, 
again, is the nature of the human mind, that 
eveiy person who can distinguish between 
one and two, may, by minute division and 
simple arrangement, be taught the most dif¬ 
ficult of sciences. 

Acquisition cannot, therefore, infallibly 
mark genius; nor ignorance, the want of it. 
The chief criterion of ability is not learning, 
but invention. There is a certain cast of 
originality which never fails to accompany 
great talents, as well before education as 
after it, and which distinguishes them both 
in ignorance and in knowledge. 

A person of superior powers, who has been 


51 


fortunate in opportunity, seems always mas¬ 
ter of his learning; he never takes more of 
a science than is consistent with general 
views, but renders each science subservient 
to another, or puts all upon an equality; he 
knows where to begin and where to stop, 
and, in short, displays that strength of mind 
which grasps the whole, and is beyond the 
reach of bias. Of the commanding supe¬ 
riority of genius, Junius’ letters are a striking 
instance. The author speaks only to what 
he knows; refuses to discuss what he does 
not understand ; never defends what is inde¬ 
fensible ; nor is betrayed to lose sight of his 
outline by attention to particulars. 

Again, a person of equal talents, in the 
most degraded state of human society, never 
fails to discover the unaided progress of his 
mind by the extent of his principles of judg¬ 
ing. It is the nature of superior powers to 
surpass their opportunities, to produce much 
reasoning on a small degree of information, 
and to draw general conclusions from a con- 


52 


fined experience.* As we have a Newton 
in a cultivated age, so have we a Copernicus 
and a Galileo in a rude. But while man¬ 
kind hailed the former as a benefactor, they 
were dazzled by the splendour of the two lat¬ 
ter, and wished to extinguish that light which 
was too strong for intellects accustomed to 
the darkness of ignorance. 

Some men are superior to circumstances, 
and possess a genius universal in scope as 
those causes which it delights to explore. 
To a powerful mind, little is sufficient to 
unfold the scheme of things. Whatever be 
its situation, it, in some measure, rises above 

8 Sir Isaac Newton was one of those w'hose penetration an¬ 
ticipates direct proof. He made many predictions, by the 
natural strength of his mind, which have since been verified ; 
while there are many persons who have drawn erroneous con¬ 
clusions from the most distinct experiments. It is indeed ob¬ 
vious that experiment, notwithstanding all that has been said 
in its favour, can never supply the place of intellect; that it 
is only an instrument subordinate to sagacity, and useful as 
it is put into able hands. Hence it often happens that the 
conclusions of speculative men are more correct than those of 
practical. 


53 


the prejudices of the age, indicates its supe¬ 
riority by escaping the contagion of example, 
drawing its ideas immediately from nature, 
and attending only to those qualities which 
are of general interest; while common men 
imitate the follies, and copy the errors of 
each ether, confine their attention and re¬ 
flection to a narrow circle, and are governed 
by accidental habits, and local peculiarities. 


CHAPTER V. 


MEMORY THE CONCOMITANT OF EDUCATION, OR 
EXPERIENCE; DEPENDANT ON JUDGMENT, OR 
STRENGTH OF MIND. 

Wtth regard to knowledge. Memory is to 
be viewed more as effect than cause; as 
naturally flowing from experience, and ac¬ 
companying the expansion of the mind. 

Whatever we remember is fixed in our 
minds by some interest less or more; and 
the stronger the impression, the more vivid 
is our recollection. Difficulty of attainment 
and retention never fail to accompany each 
other; and labour is always recompensed 
with remembrance. 

The connection between ideas subsists by 
relations similar to those which exist exter¬ 
nally; by contiguity of time and place; by 
resemblance and contrast, cause and effect. 


55 


In proportion as the mind is capable of 
conceiving things, it is interested by them. 
Judgment excites interest and fixes atten¬ 
tion, by engaging the mind in discussion; 
and enlarges the circle of pleasure and pain, 
while it extends the scope of reflection. 

A strong mind is capable of perceiving the 
most distant analogies, and of uniting the 
most remote objects in nature. An exten¬ 
sive comprehension and a great memory, 
therefore, for the most part, go together. 
Thus, a person who has, by long reflection 
and study, made himself acquainted with 
most sciences, or at least has a mind stored 
with general information, when an observa¬ 
tion is made which engages his attention, or 
any event occurs which raises his astonish¬ 
ment, immediately retraces his experience 
in search of similar and related objects, and 
assembles every thing connected with it 
within the compass of his knowledge; so 
that his ideas are carried backward in a 
train by the relation which they bear to 
each other. 


56 

Without relation to induce interest, it is 
impossible to recollect any thing. Every 
idea of former transactions, every recollec¬ 
tion of past remarks, and every renovation 
of knowledge, will appear, to those who have 
patience and acuteness, to be produced by 
some occurrence connected with that train 
of reflections which it brings back into the 
mind. Every acquisition of the understand¬ 
ing, again, remains dormant in the intellec¬ 
tual repositories, until some similar circum¬ 
stance happen, or relative idea occur, to 
revive our recollection. 

Although any new event, or remark aris¬ 
ing from it, creates only one train of ideas, 
the objects of these ideas may contain other 
qualities than those which occasioned the 
first connection and recollection, which may 
lead to ideas different from the original. In 
this manner, the mind may, by foreign qua¬ 
lities and distant connections, be drawn to 
thoughts and recollections the most remote 
from the object which first engaged its at¬ 
tention. 


57 


Nothing material ever enters the mind. 
When past ideas are revived by others simi¬ 
lar, the present operate only as a handle or 
thread of connection to lead back the mind 
to former; and every act of recollection is a 
new conception. The mind can, when in¬ 
terested, keep a number of objects within 
its view. But, as interests are weakened by 
time and the change of things, it is less 
inclined to look at remote objects, and turns 
itself to others which are more important by 
being nearer. 

Memory is but an extension of the under¬ 
standing, and the excellence of the former 
is always proportionate to that of the latter. 

When the mind first appears, its expan¬ 
sion is but very small. Its experience can¬ 
not then have created interest sufficient to 
incline it to attend to things; or have im¬ 
proved its knowledge or its judgment so far 
as to enable it to perceive any remote con¬ 
nection, to carry backward or forward any 
considerable train of ideas, or to wander into 
distant reflections. But, as our judgment is 
E 


58 


increased, our view of relation is enlarged, 
and the memory expanded. 

One remark creates another, and fixes it 
in our recollection : one relation leads to the 
discovery of others, until the mind become 
so far extended as to spread itself over the 
face of nature; as to be capable, at any time, 
of uniting the most distant objects, and of 
retracing, by turns, whatever it contains, to 
its utmost boundaries. 

That combination of ideas which consti¬ 
tutes memory, resembles a grating composed 
of cross bars, in which each binds the other, 
and serves to complete the general connection 
and strength of the fabric. The excellence 
of every intellectual quality depends, in a 
great degree, upon that of another. As the 
measure of one faculty is increased, another 
is improved. Every thing is fixed in our 
recollection by the hold which it takes of the 
mind. A man of judgment, therefore, gene¬ 
rally recollects every thing worth recollect¬ 
ing; but persons of little discrimination and 
narrow reflection, allow numberless events 


59 

and objects to pass without observation. 
Hence, as the mind is filled by its know¬ 
ledge, the memory must always be contract¬ 
ed in consistency with the understanding. 

It is by the objects we perceive in looking 
backwards, and in retracing events, that we 
measure time ; as it is by those appearing in 
any space, we measure distance. When we 
are asleep, the longest period seems but an 
instant; and, when we look upon the ocean, 
the greatest space appears but a span ; be¬ 
cause we perceive no objects to create dis¬ 
tinctions and suggest remarks to the mind. 

It is the same with memory. If a person 
be of weak judgment, or incapable of re¬ 
mark, however many events may have oc¬ 
curred to his experience, if he has not been 
interested more by pleasure and pain than 
by the vigour of his mind, no trace of them 
will remain in his recollection. 

Every person, it has been observed, com¬ 
plains of his memory, but no one of his un¬ 
derstanding . 9 But, although it is not gene- 
E 2 


S Roche foucault. 


60 


rally thought so, to complain of our memory 
is, in reality, to complain of our judgment. 
It is often said by persons of no very vigo¬ 
rous mental powers, after having read a boob, 
that their labour has been useless, as they do 
not remember a single circumstance of its 
contents; while those of stronger minds re¬ 
ply, that memory depends entirely upon the 
degree in which a person interests himself 
in the affairs of which he reads, and that 
they, after having read any book, find the 
subject, by the discussions in which it has 
engaged them, and the remarks which they 
have made upon it, so imprinted on their 
minds, that the smallest connected circum¬ 
stance never fails to recal it to their recol¬ 
lection. 

The memory of persons of narrow com¬ 
prehension is in proportion to their judg¬ 
ment, and consistent with their pursuits and 
interests. The mind must be extended ac¬ 
cording to its magnitude, and every person 
has a range of reflection peculiar to his ca¬ 
pacity. 


61 


Men of superior understandings, however. 
In some things, and on some subjects, have 
less memory than those of inferior; because 
there are many things incapable of interest¬ 
ing the former, and which have importance 
only sufficient to engage the attention of the 
latter. Slight relations naturally make little 
impression on a strong mind; and hence the 
remark that “ memory and judgment are 
seldom united/’ Application is indeed, in 
some measure, arbitrary; and it is difficult 
to determine how far the powers of the mind 
may be carried in any particular direction. 
We often hear of persons who can, from one 
hearing, recollect a sermon, or, from a single 
perusal, repeat a newspaper with all its cross 
readings; but, like other prodigies, they are 
seldom seen. As far as experience goes, if 
any person possess memory without judg¬ 
ment, it is in things not worth recollecting. 

We always remember best those things 
with which we are best acquainted, which 
have any connection with our pursuits or 
pleasures, or on which the mind is generally 
E 3 


62 


employed. A philosopher, who reads history, 
will remark and remember the revolutions 
of human opinions, the progress of know¬ 
ledge, and change of manners among man¬ 
kind ; a statesman, the art of kings, by which 
they gained ascendancy over each other, or 
kept their people in subjection; a military 
man will, perhaps, pay most attention to the 
exploits of heroes; and a beau, to the gal¬ 
lantries and fashions of different ages. Each 
will have his mind filled with the facts which 
engaged his attention, and stored with ideas 
resembling his own. But he who has the 
most enlarged comprehension, and who is 
capable of viewing the greatest variety of 
circumstances, will have the most extensive 
recollection. 

There is, however, a species of memory 
which seems to baffle every attempt at ex¬ 
planation, and which must be classed with 
those unknown minutiae of principles, the 
operation of which is the subject of conjec¬ 
ture. As nature is uniform as far as the eye 
can penetrate, we must conclude that it is 


63 


the same beyond the reach of human organs. 
We know that most plants arise from seed; 
but the earth is covered with a variety of 
minute vegetables, the origin of which can 
be discovered only from analogy. 

The peculiarity in memory which occa¬ 
sions this difficulty in our theory, is that by 
which a boy remembers a long catalogue of 
names, or words, which he does not under-* 
stand, and which, in some degree, resembles 
that facility of imitating tunes, called an ear 
for music. It must be concluded, from the 
necessity of a cause for every thing, that this 
talent is derived either from some minute¬ 
ness of remark, or diminutive observations, 
by which the mind recognizes and detects 
those words which follow each other; or that 
it is attained by custom, or the consolidation 
of experience into a habit like that by which 
many transactions of life are performed, in 
which there is a very small degree of mental 
exertion perceivable, but in which there 
must however be some. This species of re¬ 
collection and retention of facts, objects, or 
E 4 


64 


sounds, seems to be acquired by substituting 
labour and pain for other interest; and, if it 
is accomplished by habit, which there is 
some reason to think is here the prevailing 
principle, it either has remark and the inte¬ 
rest of judgment for its basis, or is much 
assisted by them. 

Such memory, however, is of the least 
important kind. As it has but a slight con- 
nection with the understanding, it is of little 
service to it; and that only which is gained 
by expansion of mind and improvement of 
judgment is useful and valuable. 


CHAPTER VI. 


CLASSIFICATION, THE GREAT INSTRUMENT OF 
JUDGMENT. 

After the mind has acquired distinct ideas, 
it is generally employed in classifying them. 
Classification is the last improvement of 
knowledge, and that operation which is the 
origin of all ability- Its utility arises from 
diminishing the number of objects ; and 
so far it differs from order, which merely 
puts every thing in its proper place. By 
mixing similar things, their variety may be 
encreased to a great extent; but, by classi¬ 
fication, many ideas are converted into few. 
The more, therefore, we can simplify and 
generalize things, the more easily can we 
comprehend them. 

The first ideas which we acquire are too 


66 


imperfect for recollection; but there can be 
little doubt that the mind originally views 
all objects as different and unconnected. By 
farther experience and exertion, modified 
always according to the original degree of 
capacity inherited from nature, we perceive 
many to possess common qualities, and unite 
multitudes under one appellation. In this 
manner, the mind proceeds from individual 
to species, from species to genus, and from 
genus to order. It is, however, to be re¬ 
marked, that classification depends also upon 
an inverse progress, and as much upon the 
observation of difference as of similarity. 
Hence the subdivisions which it compre¬ 
hends, and the origin of ranks, which per¬ 
haps are not perceived in the progress of 
generalization. All the divisions of classi¬ 
fication originate, however, in extensive 
views. Without seeing the whole, it would 
be impossible to assign each inferior class to 
its proper place. Classification is, in reali¬ 
ty, never perfect until the subdivisions be 
united into one system. 


67 

After the mind can view nature as con¬ 
nected by a few general qualities, or as di¬ 
vided into classes by distinctions, it forms to 
itself those extensive rules called principles . 
When our ideas have reached this point, 
whatever object be presented to the mind, it 
is at no loss to discover its rank, and to refer 
it to its proper place in the order of things. 
Hence experience becomes useful, and hence 
knowledge is rendered valuable. 

Nothing, however, is more certain, than 
that experience may be possessed without 
wisdom, and learning without ability. Tra¬ 
vellers are not always wise ; “ neither do the 
aged understand judgment.” A person may, 
in fact, pass through all the gradations of 
schools and seminaries with but a very slen¬ 
der acquisition of ideas, or with ideas devoid 
of selection and connection. How often do 
we see men load their memories with facts 
and circumstances, with dates and names, 
without inference or conclusion ! and how 
often do we find learning consist in the ser¬ 
vile repetition of the opinions of another. 


63 


without the consciousness of understanding 
in the person who adopts them ! 

Mental improvement is not gained by ex-? 
perience, but by thinking. The improvement 
of the mind depends upon its activity; is 
subsequent to experience and information; 
and is accomplished merely by comparing 
ideas. Without previous thought, any at¬ 
tempt at reasoning is vain. When a person 
endeavours to discuss what he has not con¬ 
sidered, he discovers many exceptions, con¬ 
ditions, and modifications, which he had 
overlooked, and lays himself open to a mul¬ 
titude of corrections and exposures. Even 
let his acquaintance with things be ever so 
general, the acquisitions of his understand¬ 
ing, if he has seen without reflecting, or read 
without digesting, cannot be great. 

It is not in accumulating in disorder and 
confusion, but in assembling with discrimi¬ 
nation; in subdividing and combining; in 
separating and uniting; in multiplying dis¬ 
tinctions, and extending connections; in 
w hich the perfection of knowledge consists. 


69 

While some persons are entirely occupied 
by cases, others are led away by slight simi¬ 
litudes and accidental connections. The 
chief merit is certainly a knowledge of prin¬ 
ciples ; but it is often no less difficult to 
discover that which is near, than that which 
is distant. Distinction cannot, in fact, be 
too much attended to. We often join things 
together, when there is little or no connec¬ 
tion between them; but when we make a 
distinction, it is seldom false. In the circle 
of reflection, the mind, however, seldom fails 
to return to an individuality of thought si¬ 
milar to that with which it commenced. 
Every view which it takes is but with the 
intention of satisfying a single inquiry ; eve¬ 
ry proposition requires but a single solution. 
To reduce a wide range of ideas to a small 
focus is the sole purpose of thinking. 

All mental excellence is indeed founded 
on experience; of which there are two kinds; 
the first derived from the observation of na- 
tnre i the second from reading. The latter is 
that which chiefly furnishes the materials of 


70 


wisdom; but both become our own, merely 
by the transmutations of reflection. Besides 
knowledge and learning, an exertion of the 
understanding is necessary to compare ideas 
and contrast opinions; to adjust experience, 
and modify the notions of others according 
to the standard of our own judgment. By 
contemplating that information which we 
receive from reading, new distinctions are 
traced, and associations formed, suitable to 
every occasion; and, by revolving in our 
minds those ideas furnished by outward ob¬ 
jects, like pebbles rolled in the ocean, they 
assume a shape and polish which they had 
not already attained. Almost every excel¬ 
lence and beauty which occasion draws forth 
previously exist in the mind. For even the 
readiest replies, the most unexpected flashes 
of wit, and the acutest remarks, are, for the 
most part, but recollections and applications 
of wisdom formerly acquired. 

Distinctness is the greatest attainment of 
the mind, and the ultimate object of both 
remote research and minute investigation. 


71 

From it, is derived all readiness of combi¬ 
nation, all strength of reasoning, and force 
of argument. As words always correspond 
with thoughts, it is also the origin of concise¬ 
ness and energy of expression. Locke and 
Demosthenes are not more remarkable for 
the force of their language, than for the dis¬ 
tinctness of their ideas . 1 

Simplicity of conception is an excellence 
from which all others flow. With clear 
ideas, it is easy to decide ; to group images, 
and form complications of qualities; to com¬ 
pose pictures, and extend delineations. 

To possess capacity is, in fact, only to un¬ 
derstand things. As general ideas are ac¬ 
quired, talents are uniformly multiplied. 
After our view is far extended, if an object 
be presented to imagination, all others rise 
up which have the smallest connection with 
it. Hence wit and wisdom are generated ; 
hence the mind is rendered prompt and de¬ 
cisive, and prepared for every contingency. 

1 Strong language (as it is called), without strong ideas, is 
merely vulgarity. 


72 


The most general ideas are, however, the 
result of minute inspection. To understand 
any subject, we must study that subject. It 
is said that a knowledge of mathematics is a 
great help to reasoning; but a knowledge 
of mathematics can merely enable us to rea¬ 
son on mathematics. Knowledge of subject 
is derived only from an actual comparison 
of parts. By comparing one part of a sub¬ 
ject with another, we understand that sub¬ 
ject; and, by comparing one subject with 
another, we adjust the whole. The mind 
must rise from less to more, from the small 
to the great, from the particular to the ge¬ 
neral. Yet, after it has attained a know¬ 
ledge of the few principles which govern 
nature, it returns to a more close exami¬ 
nation of individual subjects, and forms to 
itself those little rules which may be dis¬ 
tinguished by the name of maxims. Even 
in the most minute and trifling affairs, we 
are on the watch for conclusions to regulate 
future conduct. 

Hence all ability is nothing more than a 


73 


knowledge of general facts, or clear ideas of 
agreement or disagreement ; although the ex¬ 
tent to which distinct ideas are carried is 
very different in different men. 


F 




CHAPTER VII. 


THE GREATNESS OF MINDS KNOWN BY THE EXTENT 
OF OBJECTS WHICH THEY CAN EMBRACE; OR BY 
THEIR CAPABILITY OF TRACING ONE CAUSE, OR 
ARRANGING ONE SET OF FACTS. 

X'he natural talents of the mind can be 
ascertained only by its attainments; but as 
intellectual energy must bear a relation to 
external objects, the distinct nature of their 
difference becomes an equally determinate 
criterion of the capability of the mind. 

The perfect equality of all single ideas 
forms an infallible basis for judging of the 
force of the intellect, and reduces the theory 
of genius to a simple principle. It is not to 
be said that one idea is greater or more diffi¬ 
cult of conception than another, but that one 
person has accumulated a greater or smaller 
number of ideas than another. Where there 
are ideas, there is genius, and all difference 


75 


of genius consists merely in difference of ex¬ 
tent or range of ideas. 2. 

Nothing can be more erroneous than to 
imagine that the difficulty of directing the 
operations of things increases in strict con¬ 
formity with their magnitude or moral im¬ 
portance. There appears no greater policy 
nor stretch of mind necessary to the admi¬ 
nistration and economy of national than of 
domestic concerns, as it has been proved 
that, with only a change of terms, the same 
language, or combination of ideas, will ap¬ 
ply to both . 2 3 We have also seen it, oftener 
than once, exemplified, that a kingdom may 
be conquered with a smaller portion of good 
conduct and perseverance than an ordinary 
fortune can be acquired; and that a great 
general may be outdone in sagacity, artifice, 
F 2 

2 The term genius , as used emphatically for great genius, is 
a very indefinite mode of expression. Every person, strictly 
speaking, is a man of genius, although there are different 
degrees of genius. 

3 For examples of this, see Campbell's Lexiphanes. 


76 


and stratagem, by a common pick-pocket. 

Every thing is difficult merely as it is 
complex ; that mind only is greatest which 
can contain the greatest number of ideas, 
whose comprehension extends farthest, or 
whose grasp can embrace the most numerous 
and various set of objects. 

As the mind overlooks the particular, and 
seizes the great and general, of nature, it 
possesses genius ; and as it is capable of mul- 
tiplying its ideas of relation, and increasing 
its sphere of analogy, it possesses wisdom. 
For, as there can be no judging without 
comparison, that comparison is best which 
is farthest extended, that reasoning most 
convincing which unites the greatest variety 
of objects in one view, and that conclusion 
most to be depended on which rests on the 
widest basis. All our opinions are formed 
upon greater or smaller theories, or more or 
less extended views of facts. Correctness of 
decision is, therefore, uniformly proportion¬ 
ate to the scope of the mind. 

To infer either the presence or absence of 


77 


great talents, from an individual exertion, is 
but to form a conjecture with regard to the 
intellectual powers. Judgment is never con¬ 
stituted, nor distinction ascertained, but by 
a chain of thoughts, and train of ideas. For, 
as the importance of one thing depends 
merely upon its relation to another, to com¬ 
prehend any subject clearly, we must see 
beyond it, and have a view of its bearings 
with respect to other things. 

The expanse of the mind can, therefore, 
be justly obtained, and its excellence or de¬ 
ficiency rendered distinctly apparent, only 
by theory. In endeavouring to grasp a con¬ 
nected system, the mind is extended and 
exerted to the limits of its ability; it mea¬ 
sures its capacity by the difficulties of nature, 
and shows accurately its magnitude accord¬ 
ing to that standard. In tracing causes and 
arranging facts, it is, at once, employed and 
exerted in every variety of operation. Com¬ 
prehension is best discovered by the plan, 
and acuteness by the execution of systematic 
performances. 

F 3 


78 


The conception of connection and dis¬ 
tinction is, in reality, but an act of the same 
talent inversely applied. As judgment is 
always produced by comparison, acuteness, 
whether it be displayed in the union or sepa¬ 
ration of qualities or objects, is equally the 
criterion of an enlarged mind. Every ori¬ 
ginal idea, whether it appear in the disco¬ 
very of truth, or the detection of error, every 
production independent of rules, and effort 
beyond education, displays strength of mind, 
as it shows extent of view. Novelty of ideas 
is always the indication of comprehensive, 
and the want of it, of contracted, capacity. 
Genius is uniformly discovered by chusing 
a path for itself while common talents are 
known by following the beaten tract. Little 
minds find employment within a very nar¬ 
row circle, and are easily governed by the 
authority of celebrated names, established 
doctrines, and prevailing maxims. But in¬ 
dependence of opinion, originality of think¬ 
ing, and freedom of remark, denote the. mind 
which is not to be fettered by common rules, 


79 


and infallibly indicate a genius expanded 
beyond ordinary bounds. 

Comprehension and acuteness produce 
and elucidate each other. Comprehension 
creates acuteness, and acuteness discovers 
comprehension. The expanded mind must 
always be wise, and the wise mind expanded. 
The vividness of a strong mind sometimes 
displays itself in concentrated penetration, 
and at other times in extended contempla¬ 
tion ; but as acuteness discovers genius only 
as it is relative to enlarged reflection, to 
judge of it by the former, instead of the lat¬ 
ter, is to prefer the knowledge of a remote 
to that of a proximate cause. 

Genius is, in every case, to be measured 
by comprehension, in whatever manner that 
comprehension may be displayed. But as 
what is just can only be good, and as what 
is true can only be wise, to produce novelty 
without excellence is merely to multiply er¬ 
ror and vary absurdity. 

Discovery has, indeed, always the appear¬ 
ance of paradox, because it proceeds from 
F 4 


80 


a degree of reflection which is inconsistent 
with familiar ideas on account of its ex¬ 
panse . 4 But eccentricity and extravagance • 
are not, therefore, to be considered the crite¬ 
rion of genius; for, unless paradox enlighten 
as well as astonish, and impress conviction 
while it creates surprise, it must be consi¬ 
dered as indicating unnatural combination 
more than magnitude of comprehension. 
The invention of avisionary hypothesis must 
rank far below the discovery and delineation 
of a real cause of nature, and serves merely 
to illustrate the weakness of the mind which 
gave birth to it; to exhibit its defects, and 
degrade its perfections. If, therefore, in ar¬ 
rangement, the talents of men are most emi¬ 
nently distinguished and displayed, their 
deficiency is not less conspicuous. Innu¬ 
merable theories have been given to the 
world, which have done honour to the spe¬ 
cies; while others have been produced, by 
the folly and caprice of men, of such whim¬ 
sical construction as might have led us to^ 


4 See Note 5. Chap. XV. 


81 


imagine that they were intended to reflect 
disgrace upon human nature, and to render 
mankind ridiculous. Yet, to invent any 
system, which displays consistency and in¬ 
cludes analogy, however false, discovers a 
comprehension of mind superior to that 
which is incapable of conceiving any con¬ 
nected chain of ideas, although inferior to 
that which constructs an extensive theory 
according to the laws of nature and the prin¬ 
ciples of reason. The complicated vortices 
of Descartes evince no small degree of in¬ 
genuity ; but still they must rank far below 
the simple gravitation of Newton. 

Those, however, who so unfortunately 
chuse their pursuits, exhibit to disadvantage, 
talents, which, had they been employed ac¬ 
cording to their extent, would have appeared 
greater than they really were. For we often 
imagine, that those who produce perfection 
in one pursuit will produce perfection in 
another, and that those who shine in narra¬ 
tion will shine in theory . 5 But a person 

5 Voltaire is a respectable historian, but a very superficial 
philosopher. 


82 


may be able to do every little thing well, 
and yet be incapable of performing any 
thing great. Nothing is, indeed, more er¬ 
roneous, than to imagine that those who can 
distinguish between a few objects, or arrange 
words, can distinguish between many ob¬ 
jects, or arrange extensive and intricate 
combinations of things. Talents, which are 
equal to one operation, may be totally in¬ 
adequate to a greater. When a person who 
is qualified to reason only on a confined 
scale, enters on an extensive subject, he ge¬ 
nerally falls into a thousand extravagancies 
and absurdities. A mind of slender capa¬ 
city, when it attempts to pursue any cause 
or train of facts, is soon, by partial and im¬ 
perfect connections, diverted from the direct 
line or true course of thinking, so that its 
conclusions very often bear neither reference 
nor similarity to its proposed intentions. 
There can, perhaps, be no better criterion of 
narrowness of capacity, than that irregular 
and wandering manner of thinking, which 
shows that the mind guilty of it receives 


83 


every impression of nature as it stands, can 
contain only one idea, and that in it the 
succeeding blots out all recollection of the 
preceding. 

Every mind which is narrow must be ir¬ 
regular. There are persons who have no 
idea of general principles, and who are in¬ 
capable of comprehending them. To these, 
every fact seems distinct, separate, and un¬ 
connected ; the creation appears devoid of 
plan, and all nature a maze of confusion. 
A weak mind takes its ideas from nature as 
it finds it; and is always ready to represent it 
in every monstrous and fantastic form which 
accidental combination produces. When 
the mind possesses the power of compre¬ 
hending only a limited portion of things, it 
is incapable of distinguishing the variations 
from the principles of nature; to it, every 
fact appears a principle, and every princi¬ 
ple, a tact; every opinion which it forms is 
but a conjecture, and every decision which 
it makes is a conclusion at a venture. 

Without an enlarged degree of compre- 


84 


hension, it is impossible to have clear ideas. 
To distinguish accidental connection from 
real, and comprehend the order of nature in 
every derangement of irregularity, can only 
be within the power of that mind which 
conceives its whole scheme. It is a know¬ 
ledge of the anatomy of nature which alone 
produces distinctness of conception, and fa¬ 
cility of determination, and enables us to 
solve intricacy and unravel perplexity. But 
how few are capable of abstract thinking, 
and what narrow boundaries confine the 
reflection of the generality of mankind ! 
Even the greater number of those whom we 
consider persons of good sense, when they 
attempt to carry their ideas beyond a certain 
circle, are lost and bewildered in a maze of 
confusion. Perhaps, therefore, the extent 
of every mind is marked by nothing more 
regularly, than by the capability of tracing 
the causes of nature to their source. 

As all subjects can be treated in a pro* 
found or superficial manner, the power of 
exploring the chain of events which holds 


85 


the phenomena of nature together, appears, 
among mankind, in every degree of indivi¬ 
dual variety. Some minds are able to pro¬ 
ceed so far, and unable to make any farther 
progress in a subject; while others trace it 
to the limits of nature, and the boundaries 
of human knowledge. Some minds float 
upon the surface of things, while others pe¬ 
netrate as far as the nature of the senses will 
permit; some extend but to the more im¬ 
mediate causes of things, while others stretch 
to the most remote; some know things only 
in the shape of separate events, while others 
join facts together and form them into ex¬ 
tensive systems. 

There are two species of reasoners, and 
two ways of reasoning; one from causes, and 
another from effects, or abstract and fami¬ 
liar. The phrase, to think deeply or shal¬ 
lowly, signifies merely to know more or less 
of any subject. Hence, abstract reasoning 
is an infallible sign of superior capacity, and 
the want of it a strong indication of inferior 
powers; because the mind is stimulated only 


86 


by labour, and, for the most part, stretches 
itself to the extent of its ability/ 

The force of education and habit may, 
indeed, create exception from this rule, or, 
in some degree, soften its rigour, although 
such exception must be made with caution, 
and a sparing hand. Excellence of mind 
may be discovered even in the familiar and 
sentimental manner of reasoning. But such 
is the improbability of abilities, when the 
means of improving and displaying them 
have been afforded, being greater than they 
appear to be, that very few persons seem 
entitled to the benefit of this exception. 

6 It is to be observed of the majority of those who profess 
to give formal dissertations, that, although they set out with 
a few general ideas, they soon fall into what is called the 
common refuge of the wretched—a case in point. In what¬ 
ever way they begin, they are almost sure to end in supposi¬ 
tions or facts. Perhaps something of this may be said to arise 
from the nature of things. Most subjects furnish only a few 
general ideas, but all, a great many particular. The mode of 
particularizing, therefore, affords proof against a person’s abi¬ 
lities only when he does not give all the general ideas of his 
subject, or endeavours to impose upon us the particular for 
the general. 


87 


Even those who have the best claim to it, 
although they may be allowed to possess 
talents considerably superior to what is ge¬ 
nerally the portion of mankind, still cannot 
be ranked in the first class of genius. 7 

Nothing can be more fallacious than con¬ 
clusions drawn from partial delineation. Un¬ 
less a person has been engaged in arrange¬ 
ment of one kind or another, it is impossible 
to judge correctly of his ability^.* Execution 
can never be considered the criterion either 
of great excellence or deficiency of mental 
powers; and theory is necessary to discover 
the narrowness as well as the expansion of 
the mind. 8 


7 Addison may, perhaps, be placed in the inferior class. 

8 Thus, however great the abilities of the author of Junius’ 
Letters may be, or however distinctly proved, we can never, 
owing to their being but partially exerted, see their limits or 
real extent. All we know is, that he possessed great abilities, 
but how great we can never discover. J3y the mode of writ¬ 
ing letters, besides the additional advantage of speaking in the 
first person, the author is confined to no topic, he is at liberty 
to introduce any subject, and his subject is concluded when¬ 
ever he chuses; while a person who writes a formal disserta- 


88 


We often admire genius for the same rea¬ 
son that we wonder at terra incognita ; and 
imagine that it is great, because it has not 
been proved to be small; because its boun¬ 
daries are not defined by rules, nor its powers 
reduced to any science.* But execution is 
certainly more capable of discovering infe¬ 
riority than superiority of capacity. Those 
who excel in that middle species of style 
which displays neither extensive views, nor 
remote deductions; but merely the beauty 
of partial delineation, smooth narration, na¬ 
tural and obvious sentiment, or vivid decla- 


tion is compelled to adhere to his subject; he has his subject 
and nothing more, and is obliged to give all the ideas of it. 
We readily perceive where the latter is at a loss for matter; 
where he omits, and where he wanders. But the former can 
never be wrong; because his subject is long or short, as he 
chuses ; and, when he finds difficulty, he can always escape 
by changing it. It is, therefore, much more easy to ascer¬ 
tain the abilities of Locke or Hume, than of the author of 
Junius’ Letters. 

9 Nothing can be more delusive than the common cry of 
what a great genius he would have been, had he received a 
better education. 


89 

Ration, must be considered as filling only 
the inferior class of genius; 

There *are, indeed, celebrated authors* 
whose works exhibit nothing more than par¬ 
ticular observations, and partial delineations, 
without any dependance on each other* 
Those performances, however, the execution 
of which is excellent, and the parts valuable, 
as far as partial beauty is to be estimated, 
but which present no whole, and teach no 
science, nor add any thing to the simplifica¬ 
tion of nature, we are, by strict justice, com¬ 
pelled to degrade to the lower rank of ge¬ 
nius. When such works become popular, 
it can be accounted for only by the faculties 
of the bulk of mankind being better adapted 
to the comprehension of the small than the 
great, of the particular than the general, of 
the perfection of parts, than the connection 
of the whole.* 

G 

* I ltnow not whether the parts of the works of Longinus 
and Burke, on the “ sublime," be sufficiently connected by one 
general cause, to deserve the appellation of theories. 


go 


Unless the members of any performance 
be comprehended in a regular scheme, it is 
impossible it can be great The parts of any 
subject, or the particular facts arising from 
any general cause, have as evident a depend- 
ance upon each other as the limbs of a sta¬ 
tue ; and the perfection of the former, as well 
as of the latter, arises solely from their union, 
harmony, and proportion. It is not the com¬ 
plexion, but the features ; not the finish and 
polish, but the form and make; not delicacy 
of colouring, but boldness of design, which 
is greatness in literature. The sublimity of 
any work, proceeding from the order of the 
whole, and the excellence of its parts, resem¬ 
bles the magnificence of the solar rays di¬ 
verging from a common centre; while the 
greatest beauties, in confusion, are merely 
similar to the elements of nature in original 
chaos. 

The beauty or accuracy of any perform¬ 
ance may be very agreeable or useful, but 
it is the disposition of its outlines only which 


91 

can render it great * For, as the perfection 
of all mental talent depends upon the capa¬ 
bility of conceiving the relation which things 
bear to each other, every work of literature; 
or effort of the mind, displays capacity mere¬ 
ly as it discovers comprehension, or serves to 
enlarge reflection. General views only can 
indicate ability. Whether novelty appear 
in the shape of philosophy or fancy, it is 
not minute beauties , but magnitude, as a 
whole, by which its rank is to be ascertain¬ 
ed. A figurative passage, a simile, or a 
witty remark, displays nothing which does 
not lie within a narrow compass, and of 
which every person is not capable. But he 
who, in any manner, discovers the possession 
of that strength of intellect, which has en¬ 
abled him to conceive the various combi¬ 
nations, relations, and analogies of nature* 
g 2 

3 What Pope says of beauty, may be said of greatness - 
“ In wit, as nature, what affects our hearts 
Is not tl/ exactness of peculiar parts; 

? Tis not a lip, nor eye, we beauty call. 

But the joint force and full result of all/* 


proves, at the same time, that the principles 
of all sciences exist in his mind, and talents 
which can be varied to every mode of hu¬ 
man employment; for, surely, whatever 
comprehends the sum of knowledge, includes 
its parts. 

To a superior mind, all the magnificence 
of nature is present, and all its scheme un¬ 
folded ; all its qualities appear in array, and 
all its operations display themselves, before 
it. The vast and the minute are equally 
open to its view; and it is ever ready to 
astonish by comprehension, or surprise with 
acuteness. It combines the most distant re¬ 
lations, and dissevers things apparently most 
connected. Those related qualities, which 
adventitious circumstances have separated, 
can, by no disguise, or remoteness of situa¬ 
tion, be concealed from it; and those of a he¬ 
terogeneous nature, accidentally associated, 
can, by no closeness of union, escape the 
vigour of its observation. It traces rela¬ 
tions, and multiplies distinctions, in every 
variety of form; it restores the order of 


93 


nature, and reconceives the plan of things. 
In that strength of mind which may he 
contracted to penetration, or expanded to 
comprehension, whose concentrated heat 
burns at a point, or whose dilated light illu- 
minates a vast expanse of nature, is displayed 
all that is admirable in the human capacity. 

That native force of mind, which appears 
only by effect, is in itself inconceivable; but 
every variety of intellectual energy may be 
comprehended under the term reason. Rea¬ 
son is the power of knowing what is; 3 and 
to remark the difference or connection be¬ 
tween one object or quality and another, 
may, perhaps, form a general characteristic 
of mental efforts. The laws of the intellect 
are very simple, but, at the same time, the 
difference between one mind and another is 
very apparent. To distinguish between two 
G 3 

3 Superiority of judgment seems to arise from that power 
of contemplation by which we fix our minds exclusively on 
an object, or its relations, until we receive their exact im¬ 
pression. But all ability may be said to consist in the know* 
ledge of fact. 


94 


objects appears to be a portion of that mental 
operation by which the greatest systems are 
constructed; and the most extensive arrange¬ 
ment of facts seems but a chain of discrimi¬ 
nations. 

That intenseness of thought, by which a 
person of a strong mind dissects and analyzes 
any particular subject instantaneously, may 
not appear great; although it is but a differ¬ 
ent application of that power of intellect 
which extends its view far and wide. 

Every mind is acute only because it is com¬ 
prehensive. The most penetrating thoughts, 
and unexpected combinations, arise merely 
from general views, and extensive reflection. 
It is said, that fortune favours the brave; and 
it has been remarked, that “ lucky hits sel¬ 
dom happen but to men of genius.” It is 
astonishing, when we hear the remarks of a 
mind greater than our own, to think how 
near they lay to us, and it seems wonderful 
how they escaped us! It is remarkable how 
very different ideas are presented by the 
same event or object to two persons of dif* 


ierent degrees of ability ! how many combi¬ 
nations occur in the reflections of men of 
talents, which are unknown to those whose 
capacity is destitute of creative vigour ! But 
every flash of wit, every brilliant thought, 
and shining idea, originate merely in latitude 
of conception, or expanse of mind . 4 

Every intellectual effort may be summed 
up in the term comprehension. Wherever 
the acquisitions of the mind commence, 
here they terminate. Towards comprehen¬ 
sion, all human conceptions tend; and from 
it, every noble effort returns. That vivida 
vis, that power of penetrating into things, of 
detecting their agreement or disagreement, 
is never exercised without adding to our 
ideas; and the same strength of mind which 
enables a person to conceive his ideas, ena¬ 
bles him to recal them , 5 Every additional 
G 4 

4 Wit does not, however, require first-rate talents; at least, 
that species of it which may be denominated smart sayings, 
does not consist in uniting very remote object?. 

5 See Memory, Chap. V. 


96 


attainment adds to the capability of acquir¬ 
ing another; so that continual advancement 
in knowledge must be the natural progress 
of a mind impelled by the energy of great 
talents. But such, again, is the extent of 
nature, that no force of genius can exhaust 
its variety : Its amplitude must always defy 
the acquisitions of the greatest mind. The 
originality of nature does, indeed, often seem 
exhausted to the eye of common observa¬ 
tion, until a superior genius arise to unfold 
its treasures, and extend the sphere of human 
reason; when we perceive that what we had 
taken for the boundary of things was merely 
the limits of our own reflection. 

The mind of man may, indeed, exhaust 
the novelty of the general and distinguishing 
features of nature ;* but to explore all its 

6 The natural progress of the mind is rapid at first, and 
slow at last. It is limited as much by nature as by capacity. 
Our talents are originally advanced by the novelty, and ulti¬ 
mately checked by the poverty, of things. The prominent 
features of any subject obtrude themselves upon us* while 
more delicate peculiarities are distinguished with difficulty. 
Hence, an early display of ability is often followed by a total 


97 

qualities, and trace all their relations, has 
hitherto defied the efforts of human genius. 
The principles of nature are few and uni¬ 
form; but they appear in a multitude of 
events, and diversity of individual objects, 
which furnish distinctions sufficient to en¬ 
gage the most exalted talents: 

The objects and qualities of nature are 
thrown together without any connection or 
order, and mingled in the most confused 
variety. Hence, steadiness of mind is neces¬ 
sary to prevent our being dazzled by their 
diversity, and force of judgment to remove 
their confusion and join them together ac¬ 
cording to their natural dependance. 

That mind is greatest which can view the 
connection of things to the greatest extent, 
and which can separate them in the most 
minute manner. A strong mind is that which 
keeps a firm hold of the present idea, and 

want of improvement. Pope never excelled his “ Essay on 
Criticism,” written at the age of twenty; and Akenside never 
equalled his “ Pleasures of Imagination,” written at twenty- 
three. 


98 


•which can pass from one quality to another 
by the slightest similitude; but which can, 
at the same time, preserve one principle by 
itself, and reject whatever is unconnected 
with it. It requires great vigour of thought 
to see things as they are. An intellect which 
can grasp but a single idea, loses one before 
it reaches another, and must determine ac¬ 
cording to the last which it retains. Excel¬ 
lence of mind, therefore, consists merely in 
being able to compare many ideas; to com¬ 
prehend their mutual dependance, and to 
distinguish between them. 


CHAPTER VIIL 


^HE MIND EXCELS IN al,1j THINGS, ACCORDING TO 
ITS STRENGTH. 

If one idea be conceived with the same ease 
as another, it is not to be supposed that the 
powers of the mind are affected by every 
change in the mode of their application. 

As all intellectual operations are similar, 
he who is wise upon one subject, if he have 
the same degree of experience or informa¬ 
tion, must be equally wise upon another; 
and he who excels in one science, must excel 
in every. 

The mind is the same in all circumstances. 
But, as the sun is sometimes obscured by 
clouds and vapours, its splendour is liable to 
be extinguished by casualties. Situation, 
education, and opportunity, may exalt the 




m 


talents of some, and depress those of others; 
diversifying the human character, and vary¬ 
ing the excellence of the performances of 
mankind, in every degree. 

When, indeed, the mind of any person is 
once formed by an education which involves 
nature in its view, and takes for its basis 
those universal principles which are to be 
found in every place, society, and age, if the 
various species of information be mixed in 
such degrees of temperament as to induce 
the preponderance of no particular science, 
habit, or inclination, then that person will 
be equally fitted for all professions, pursuits, 
and occasions. Whatever be his situation, 
he will always make distinctions and re¬ 
marks, and discover the same degree of pe¬ 
netration, and strength of understanding. 
A man of enlarged ideas can neVer be mis¬ 
placed. Place Dr. Johnson in London, or 
the Hebrides, and he will still be surrounded 
with the radiance of philosophy, and his 
mind will still emit the rays of wisdom. 

But a person of great powers, if originally 


101 


situated in a rude and barbarous society, al¬ 
though he may hold the same superiority 
over those around him, and preserve the 
same difference from an inferior, as if he 
had been born in a more favourable situa¬ 
tion, will, in acquirements, be much below 
one of the same natural capacity who has 
had better opportunities of improvement. 
The strongest mind must bend to those cus¬ 
toms and prejudices which are obtruded 
upon it every moment by authority and ne¬ 
cessity, and which are continually in its view, 
even although a person be placed among 
them at an advanced period of life. But if 
he be exposed to their influence from his 
infancy, he must unavoidably draw all his 
principles of thought and reasoning from 
them, because he can have none else to 
judge by. If however, he determine just¬ 
ly, according to his knowledge, as the merit 
of thinking does not consist in the know¬ 
ledge of facts, but in the inferences which 
are drawn from them, the opinion of wise 
men can never be prejudiced against his un- 


102 


derstanding. In estimating capacity, we 
must, therefore, if it be practicable, make 
allowance for the defects of education, al¬ 
though it is very difficult to distinguish the 
original inequality of minds whose circum¬ 
stances have been different. 

In the difference of circumstances, incli¬ 
nation forms a very important part. As the 
performances of the mind have a strict cor¬ 
respondence with exertion, it often happens 
that a person fails in one pursuit, and suc¬ 
ceeds in another, not less difficult, but of a 
different nature ; the reason of which, sup¬ 
posing opportunity to be equally favourable 
in both, can only be, that his habits have 
been such as to produce a taste for the one, 
and a dislike to the other. Hence, what is 
called peculiarity of talent, distinguished 
from education and the degrees of abilit\% 
is merely peculiarity of taste or inclination 5 
and hence the wonderful phenomenon of 
persons who have appeared entirely deficient 
in capacity for one science, but who have 
shone in another of greater intricacy, is not 


103 

to be solved by peculiarity of talent, but 
merely by peculiarity of disposition . 7 

With regard to success, there are only two 
things to be distinguished; the means , and 
the power. In the first, may be included all 
adventitious causes, such as opportunity, edu¬ 
cation, and exertion ; in the second, the na¬ 
tural difference of minds, or that degree of 
energy which is supposed to exist prior to 
the influence of external circumstances. 

The only original difference, or the only 
ultimate difference of subjects, setting aside 
all casual peculiarities, is the comparative 
intricacy of parts which they contain, or 
the repeated discriminations which they re« 
quire. A person who succeeds in one pur- 

7 Of the error here alluded to, the following instance is 
from the Spectator .—“ The story of Clavius is well known. 
He was entered in a college of Jesuits; and, after he had 
been tried at several parts of learning, was upon the point of 
being dismissed as a hopeless blockhead, till one of the fathers 
took it into his head to make an essay of his parts in geome¬ 
try, which, it seems, hit his genius so luckily, that he af« 
terwards became one of the greatest mathematicians of thef 
age” 


104 


suit, will succeed in another, if it contain 
only the same number of parts, and if ex¬ 
ternal circumstances be favourable. But if 
any pursuit, or subject, be of so extensive a 
nature, or contain so great a number of parts, 
as to exceed the limits of his comprehension, 
no advantage of circumstances can produce 
success. When, therefore, accidental pecu¬ 
liarities are excluded or balanced, the differ¬ 
ence of minds must still be marked by the 
difference of subjects. 

Although all ideas are equal, some sub¬ 
jects furnish a greater variety and complica¬ 
tion of ideas than others. Thus, the “ Essay 
on the Human Understanding” contains a 
prodigious number of parts; independently 
of this, that each part is so abstract and ge¬ 
neral as to represent a multitude of other 
parts. But still it must be considered as in¬ 
ferior to the “ Elements of Euclid,” which, if 
they were the labour of one man, would be 
a stupendous effort of genius. On this point, 
it is, however, to be remarked, that the ma¬ 
thematical sciences, though confessed on all 


105 


hands to contain a greater number of parts 
than the moral, seem to be more easily ac¬ 
quired and generally understood. In the 
former, our progress is marked by distinct 
and determinate steps, in which no error can 
escape detection. In the latter, deviation is 
easy; virtue and vice, good and evil, are 
separated merely by shades of distinction, or 
differ only in degree, and are, on that ac¬ 
count, more readily confounded. Besides, 
in the former, we judge of external objects, 
which may, if necessary, be presented to the 
senses; in the latter, of our own ideas, which 
are always of a light and evanescent nature, 
and easily escape detection. Hence morali* 
ty is not only the most noble and sublime, 
but also the most difficult, of sciences. Some 
persons can, by no mode of instruction, be 
brought to conceive, in any other than a 
mechanical form, 8 even the existence of their 
H 

s Many persons never think of the mind as governed by 
sensation, pleasure and pain; but talk of it as a piece of me¬ 
chanism, composed of wheels, pullies, and levers. In illustra- 


106 


own ideas; but every person may be taught 
something of the science of quantity and 
number. 

The same degree of ability, therefore, 
which is suitable to one subject, may not be 
equal to another. Some persons can, with¬ 
out embarrassment, view an immense varie¬ 
ty of objects, and pass, with intuitive rapi¬ 
dity, to a conclusion, through a long train 
of ideas; while others are confused by the 
Smallest variety, and cannot, by any effort, 
reach a distinct determination. A mind 
which is able to decide on a simple proposi¬ 
tion, may not be able to decide on a com¬ 
plex, or to reduce an extensive and intricate 
combination of qualities to a definition . 

Attainment is not, indeed, a necessary 

lion, take the following method of teaching mathematics, 
as practised in the academy of Ladago.—“ The proposition 
and demonstrations must be fairly written on a wafer, with ink 
composed of a cephalic tincture. This the student swallows, 
upon a fasting stomach; and, for the three following days, 
eats nothing but bread and water. As the wafer digests, the 
tincture mounts to his brain, bearing the proposition along 
with it.” 


107 


consequence of application. All that the 
efforts of the mind can amount to, is only to 
make use of the abilities which it possesses, 
to acquire knowledge, and improve its habits 
of judging. The mind can only call its 
powers into action, and give attention to 
things. It cannot create abilities or facul¬ 
ties in itself. It can encrease neither the 
acuteness of its remarks, nor the natural ex¬ 
tent of its comprehension. However com¬ 
pletely, therefore, inclination may, in a cul¬ 
tivated society, set aside all other circum¬ 
stances with regard to mental employment, 
or however necessary it may be to exertion, 
the success of the mind must still depend 
upon, and be measured by, capacity, as much 
as by application. Inclination produces only 
attention and exertion ; but, as the general 
error, in the selection of our pursuits, is to 
chuse, not below, but above our powers, 
inclination can never be considered an infal¬ 
lible criterion of the extent or aptitude of 
the powers of the mind. 

When w r e wish to discover that situation 
H 2 


103 


in life for which a young man is best adapt¬ 
ed, instead of watching with a romantic and 
superstitious care, to perceive to what trifle 
he will give his attention, we should endea¬ 
vour to ascertain the force of his mind, in 
order to proportion his pursuits to his abili¬ 
ties. By disposition, we can understand 
what a person is willing to pursue ; and 
whatever may be the extent of his talents, 
there must be many things, in the world, 
suitable to them. But success depends as 
much upon capacity as upon inclination. A 
person may desire, and attempt, things to 
which he is unequal, and in which he can 
never succeed. We often know and value 
that which would exalt our reputation, with-* 
out being able to perform it, and perceive 
perfections in others which, we are confi¬ 
dent, will never be produced in ourselves. 
Who does not know that an Aristotle, a 
Gsesar, or a Demosthenes, would be highly 
respected ? As passion, therefore, may, in in¬ 
ferior things, overcome prudence, we should 
endeavour to distinguish desire from capa- 


109 


city, and vanity from ability. May not 
also the disposition of a boy be temporary, 
accidental, fanciful, or arise from local cir¬ 
cumstances? But, when once the strength 
of the mind is ascertained, there can be no 
mistake in applying it to its object. It then 
only remains to chuse, among those things 
to which it is equal, that to which its pas¬ 
sions dispose it to give application. 

Therefore, although every person may 
succeed in all things, it is only according to 
capacity ; and if any person grasp at those 
which are more extensive than his powers, 
it is evident that he can embrace them only 
to a certain degree. There is no mind which 
is not capable, by its own efforts, of making 
a certain progress in every subject, but that 
progress may not be great. As, therefore, 
nature may be divided into parts, and one 
species of things separated from another, 
there are peculiar pursuits, which, by furr 
nishing comparatively few ideas, form a 
more exact correspondence than others with 
the abilities of particular persons. He who 
H 3 


110 


cannot invent may imitate : a person inca¬ 
pable of design may be qualified to exe¬ 
cute ; and one who is unequal to command 
may still be fitted to obey. 9 

One individual may possess more ability 
than another; but that there are certain sub¬ 
jects requiring a peculiar species of mind, 
and persons who have been born with that 
species of mental talent which is adapted to 
them alone, are merely fictions of imagina¬ 
tion. A person may have been born with a 
peculiar disposition, and he may have pre¬ 
ferred one profession to another; but, if it 
had been his choice, he would have acquired 
as great eminence in any other, as in that 
which he made the object of his attention, 
if difficulty had been equal in both. Sup¬ 
posing, however, a person to attempt sub¬ 
jects unequal in difficulty ; supposing he who 
had narrated a few simple facts, or written 
an elegy or a sonnet, should attempt history 
or epic poetry, his success in the former 

9 Dr. Beattie had talents for a poet, but apparently not 
for a philosopher. 


Ill 

would be no evidence that he would succeed 
in the latter. As the capacity can never be 
expanded beyond its natural bounds, a person 
may be able to carry his attainment to the 
limits of one pursuit, while his ideas extend 
only a certain length in another. 

That all minds advance, in the acquire¬ 
ment of knowledge, only in proportion to 
their ability and facility of comprehension, 
cannot be denied; and it is net less appa¬ 
rent, that, when a mind of no great vigour 
attempts what is above its power, or a sub¬ 
ject of a complex and involved nature, it 
can make progress only equal to the extent 
of a subject to which its abilities are ade¬ 
quate. But there can be nothing more ab¬ 
surd than to imagine, that one quality of the 
mind of any person is different from that of 
the mind of another, in any other respect 
than in degree of excellence; that there are 
different or unequal qualities in the same 
person’s mind; or that he can think better 
on one subject, or occasion, than on ano¬ 
ther. 

H 4 


112 

Difference of subjects and circumstances 
may create difference of success, but cannot 
affect the native energy of the mind. A 
person may, from pain of body, or anxie¬ 
ty of mind, be more unable to exert him¬ 
self at one time than at another; or his at¬ 
tention may, sometimes, be called off from 
the subject on which he is employed, by 
something more agreeable and interesting; 
but, at all times, his success, if he can com¬ 
mand the same ardour, will be the same. 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE MIND GOVERNED BY THE PASSIONS, AND DI¬ 
RECTED BY ACCIDENT. 

A person may succeed in one pursuit to 
the same extent as in another; but the pur¬ 
suit in which he actually exerts himself, or 
the subject on which he bestows his labour, 
depends upon his taste, or that peculiar pas¬ 
sion which determines his choice. 

Passion applies to intellectual operations 
no farther than regards the direction of our 
abilities. But from that attention which we 
are induced, by disposition, to give to one 
object in preference to another, arise habit, 
every peculiar production of literature, and 
all difference of mental talent* which is to 
be distinguished from the degrees of ability. 

1 See Habit, Chap. XIX. 


114 


Nothing is more various than the inclina¬ 
tions and pursuits of men. Some are pro¬ 
digal, others avaricious; some are ambitious, 
others luxurious; some court danger and 
fatigue, others seek comfort and ease. In 
the intellectual character, varieties are not 
less numerous. While one man delights in 
reasoning, another revels in imagination; 
while some labour to instruct, others attempt 
to amuse. Some are always serious; and 
the perpetual endeavour of others is to be 
humourous. It is not, however, to be 
thought that every person is confined to a 
particular walk from which he cannot de¬ 
viate ; only that he is guided by a prevailing 
inclination which produces characteristic. 
As this inclination determines his efforts to a 
particular object, so far they are successful. 

Yet taste is not to be confounded with the 
natural powers of the mind. Although there 
are many species of disposition, there is but 
one species of intellect. If, indeed, inclina¬ 
tion be taken for the criterion of genius, it 
must entirely exclude ability. Magnitude 


115 


of genius must then be determined by the 
force of the passions, not by the strength of 
the mind. As, however, things have, intel¬ 
lectually, no other difference than difficulty, 
genius has no other peculiarity than extent. 
Every other variety which it exhibits, arises 
merely from its circumstances, and the dis¬ 
position or taste with which it is attended. 
The mind appears originally without ideas, 
and destitute of bias. It is diverted from 
the straight line of motion merely by se¬ 
condary impulses. Disposition and inclina¬ 
tion grow up with experience; and men 
become philosophers, poets, historians, and 
generals, as it were, by accident. 

Some peculiarities of passion are acquired 
by education, or arise from accidental cir¬ 
cumstances. The first book a person reads, 
the first picture he sees, unexpected success, 
necessity, or the influence of example, may 
determine the ruling passion. At other times, 
it is fixed by constitution. If Pope had not 
been confined to study by the weakness of 
his body, it is probable his genius might 


116 


have been dissipated in the pursuits of plea¬ 
sure; and many a shining beau, if he had 
wanted animal spirits, might have produced 
a grave didactic author. 

All our efforts, whether in the pursuit of 
fame, wealth, or pleasure, arise from our 
passions. Hence passion produces ability. 
But ability, again, by opening new views, 
together with the prospect of success, pro¬ 
duces passion. It is, therefore, difficult to 
discover which is the cause and which the 
effect. 

As taste or inclination divides mankind 
into different classes, so, by a species of sub¬ 
division, it separates one character of the 
same class from another, and forms what is 
called manner . It is this which distinguishes 
Hume from Robertson, although both are 
eminent historians; and renders Pope and 
Dry den different, although great poets using 
nearly the same subjects. 

In the inferior requisites of literature, 
manner is chiefly apparent. The whole me¬ 
rit of the minor part of composition, includ- 


117 


ing every peculiarity of style and ornament, 
as well as propriety of narration, indubitably, 
depends less upon natural capacity than upon 
those characteristics which arise from exter¬ 
nal circumstances. In style, the greatest 
and the smallest minds are distinguished 
only by that disposition which has arisen 
from minute causes, and been acquired by 
imperceptible degrees. But, as nature can¬ 
not be counteracted, nor inclination bended 
to every purpose, perfections of style become 
as valuable as those produced by original 
superiority of intellect/ 

2 To particularize how passion operates in style, it may be 
remarked, that one person cannot resist the temptation of a 
wise observation, or an additional remark, in violation of ele¬ 
gance, and the harmony of intimate connection; while ano¬ 
ther readily sacrifices the matter to the manner, and can reject 
ideas to produce flowing language. But style may be sepa¬ 
rated into two grand divisions. One which preserves a rigid 
order, admits nothing superfluous, no digression, nor artificial 
mode of introduction; another more rambling, which does not 
prohibit frequent digression, which permits irregular methods 
of introduction, and will abate precision for a sounding word 
or harmonious period. Both have their advantages and dis¬ 
advantages. The former possesses most dignity, and correct¬ 
ness ; the latter, most variety, and ease. 


CHAPTER X. 


LABOUR NECESSARY TO ATTAIN EXCELLENCE; AND 
MERIT, TO ACQUIRE FAME. 

The first division of mental ability, is the 
natural capacity of the mind; the second, 
its acquirements. 

As a necessary requisite to excellence, the 
mind must, in the first place, be powerful; 
for no improvement or alteration which is 
made on minds can obliterate that original 
difference which nature has marked out. 
And neither can superiority of intellect be 
accounted for, nor can comprehension and 
acuteness be communicated to the mind by 
any mode of education. Sense cannot be 
taught. Rules and maxims, in the hands of 
the weak, lead only to misapplication, and 
render folly conspicuous. 


119 


But ability, however great naturally, with¬ 
out application, is vain. The strong derive 
no advantage from their strength, if they do 
not employ it; and the swiftest runner would 
never reach the end of the course, if he did 
not exert his powers. 

In all the inferior stations of life, industry 
is more valuable than capacity. Even in 
the most dignified employments of the mind, 
it is a necessary concomitant of success. For 
the relation between effort and attainment 
is mutual, and great actions cannot be ac¬ 
complished without great exertions. 

At first view, indeed, it appears, that no 
great assistance is given, by labour, to the 
proper and characteristic performances of 
genius; but that the outlines, the great and 
general, are what genius, by the extent of 
its comprehension, suddenly conceives, with¬ 
out much effort. On closer examination, 
however, it will be found, that the most 
instantaneous originality of conception is the 
result of a distinct progress of knowledge, 
and that the most hidden analogies are con- 


120 


ceivecl by a long train of ideas. Extensive 
combination and remote association, with¬ 
out doubt, serve always more to display ge¬ 
nius than industry. But the detailed part 
of theory is to be modified merely by the 
continued application of thought on the par¬ 
ticular part of the subject; and the circum¬ 
stantial matter which is necessary to com¬ 
plete any design, can be supplied only by 
minute observation. 

Men of ability are often induced, by a 
mistaken self-sufficiency, and reliance on 
great powers, to despise industry. But no 
superiority of talent can supersede the neces¬ 
sity of extensive information, deliberate rea¬ 
soning, and ample detail. The most digni¬ 
fied designs, and noblest plans of genius, 
may be lost for want of care in the execu¬ 
tion ; while partial perfection, the produce 
of inferior capacity, is preserved by the care 
which has been bestowed upon it. 

Unless the most extensive and correct out¬ 
lines be amplified by particular matter, and 
melted into each other by imperceptible de- 


121 


grees, they can never, however much they 
may be admired by men of genius, be valued 
either by them, or the bulk of mankind. 
For, although the plan of every intellectual 
production is what alone renders it great; 
3 7 et, in the circumstantial, the minute, and 
the laborious part, consists whatever is use¬ 
ful or interesting. Such is, indeed, the im¬ 
portance of finish in mental operations, that 
a few ideas, the arrangement of which is not 
embarrassed by their multitude, nor their 
connection impeded by the remoteness of 
their deduction, will be preferred to the 
greatest assemblage of good thoughts which 
want that polish which necessarily arises 
from superficial and obvious reflection . 3 
i 

3 It may be here remarked, that a dissertation might be 
exhibited by a drawing, each paragraph under the form of a 
cone placed horizontally, the basis of which represented a 
general, and the apex a more particular, idea. Now, if these 
cones do not follow each other in exact line, but the basis of 
•ach succeeding be overlapped by the termination of the pre¬ 
ceding, we would, supposing us to add an additional idea to 
the conclusion of any one paragraph, render it too particular 


By sortie, the manner is preferred to the 
matter. This is certainly- erroneous. But 
utility is so far connected with ornament, 
that no production of the mind can be per¬ 
fect in matter which is not complete in ele¬ 
gance. / E^ery imperfection^ or deficiency, 
every improper introduction or omission of 
ideas, must prove as injurious to matter as 
to style; and every appropriate embellish¬ 
ment, every judicious choice of words and 
order of expression, every beauty of harmo¬ 
nious periods, of simile, figure, and apt illus¬ 
tration, must tend -as much to the elucida¬ 
tion, as to the decoration,^! the subject 
No observation is morecommon than that 
it is easy to plan, but difficult to execute. 
This can, however, hold true only of such 
plans as want both novelty and excellence; 

to admit of its being united to the next general idea, and this, 
even the device of a new sentence could not prevent. In the 
best economised subject, therefore, it is often necessary, for 
the sake of elegance, to omit something. But, to prevent both 
the omission and crowding of ideas, the best plan is to write 
several dissertations on the same subject; and, for this pur¬ 
pose, the form of letters is not a bad one. 


123 


for, surely, a common artificer may build 
that edifice which requires the greatest ar¬ 
chitect to design. Many systems are, in¬ 
deed, copies; many fables, imitations. When 
such are valued, the execution must rise 
superior to the scheme. Almost every par¬ 
ticular idea is a whole composed of several 
parts. A single ornament may, therefore, 
display more ingenuity, and give a wider 
view of analogy, than the structure of an 
epic poem . 4 

All is, in fact, plan; the difference being 
only between great and small plans. Few 
persons, indeed, are capable of strong general 
views. Even to compose metaphors, to 
chuse similes, or select instances, may not 
be a talent which every person possesses, 
but it is apparently one which every person 
may acquire. Command of language, again, 
depends upon an arrangement of ideas, or 
words, on every particular subject. This 
can be accomplished only by actual experi- 
I 2 


4 Thi* is the sublime of Longinus, 


124 


ence and minute inspection. The difficulty 
here is not one great effort, but a succession 
of similar performances. 

Number, which corresponds with mental 
exertion, consists in mutual dependance. To 
collect individual ideas, without consistency, 
displays little of the characteristic of intel¬ 
lectual energy,—the perception of agree¬ 
ment or disagreement; and is truly called 
labour. The lowest of design may be mean, 
but the most excellent of execution can ne¬ 
ver reach the highest praise; for, when we 
examine the greatest productions, each part 
seems easy of performance ; difficulty ap¬ 
pears only in the combination. 

The most extensive things are, however, 
composed of minute parts. As all intellec¬ 
tual operations are design, so are they all 
labour. Sometimes enlarged views are at¬ 
tained by a few steps, and the mind returns 
to a more exact examination of particular 
objects. But, in general, the greatest abili¬ 
ties are formed by the same progress of in¬ 
dividual acquisition as the smallest. Even 


125 


invention itself has been said to depend upon 
patience. Perhaps, therefore, the only dif¬ 
ference between mental superiority and in¬ 
feriority, is, that the former is capable of 
absorbing and retaining a more extensive 
portion of knowledge, and a greater fund of 
ideas, than the latter. Perhaps it is not so 
much the power of acquisition, without ef¬ 
fort, as the extent to which attainment may, 
by industry, be carried, wfetich distinguishes 
genius from imbecility. The difference be¬ 
tween the lower and the higher rank of 
intellect appears to be, that the former can 
produce nothing great by labour, and the 
latter, nothing great without it. 

It is altogether impossible to separate that 
degree of capacity which is natural, from 
that which is acquired. The doctrine that 
the measure of ability is varied only by the 
degrees of exertion, and that great talents 
are nothing more than the appropriation of 
application, may be unsound. But there is 
no such stupendous difference between the 
construction of the mental powers ot one 
I 3 


126 

individual, and of those of another, as that 
genius can supply the want of exertion, or 
that industry will not, in every case, be re¬ 
warded by a certain portion of success and 
attainment* 

Great part of what has so often been 
ascribed to ability certainly belongs to exer¬ 
tion. We generally see the performances of 
mankind, without knowing the labour which 
has been bestowed upon them. Hence, by 
comparing the productions of those who 
have spent their lives in the pursuit of some 
great excellence, with those of persons whose 
exertions have been but moderately stimu¬ 
lated, we may form very erroneous estimates 
of their original abilities. The perfection 
of art very much resembles nature. What¬ 
ever is well done seems to have been done 
with ease. But the most eminent are, ge¬ 
nerally, the most laborious; and it is not to 
be doubted, that all those whom we are now 
accustomed, justly, to admire, attained ex¬ 
cellence by the gradual progress of perse¬ 
vering industry. 


127 

The intense application which mathema¬ 
tics, and the higher branches of science, re¬ 
quire, is incredible. The conclusions which 
Archimedes and Sir Isaac Newton reached, 
were accomplished by the most minute steps, 
and tedious processes. In literature, we find 
a similar exertion necessary. The most 
beautiful performances are said to be pro¬ 
duced with the most painful throes. Milton 
himself says, “ by labour and intense study, 
which I take to be my portion in this life, 
joined with a strong propensity of nature, I 
may leave something so written to after ages, 
as they should not willingly let die.” De¬ 
mosthenes’ orations are said to have smelt of 
the lamp, and the author of Junius’ letters 
confesses his labour. But, in the productions 
of no author, is labour so visible as in those 
of Pope. The incessant care w T ith which he 
collected and treasured up ideas, his repeat¬ 
ed corrections, and numerous additions, put 
the vigilance of study in a strong light. Yet, 
perhaps, his works discover more forced in¬ 
troductions, and misplaced ideas ; or, in 

I 4 


128 


short, moi*e of those sinkings, and that ba¬ 
thos, 'which he so much ridiculed in others, 
than are to be found in most writers. 

Painters and statuaries are, in general, 
joined with authors; and, although their la¬ 
bours seem more of a mechanical than intel¬ 
lectual nature, yet they do not fail to concur 
in illustrating the importance of applica¬ 
tion. 

In military enterprises, the stretch of mind 
and foresight necessary to the plan, are not 
more apparent than the promptitude and 
vigilance requisite in the execution ; yet, in 
no pursuit, is less of labour and intellect ca¬ 
pable of dazzling mankind. In the most 
difficult situation in which a commander 
can be place^, there are not so many things 
to be compared as in a common moral 
Essay; the difference only is, that, in the 
former, a wrong step is attended with the 
most important consequences to the interests 
of mankind. Of all heroes, Frederick of 
Prussia is he whose renown is built on the 
best known and most rational basis; but, 


129 


still, it seems entirely the effect of industry; 
of that activity of mind which attends to 
small things as well as to great; for, in the 
writings with which he has favoured the 
world, we see none but the most ordinary 
ideas. 

Of difficulty, there appear three kinds; 
first, that which is opposed to physical force; 
secondly, that which belongs to suffering, 
where resolution is of most importance ; and 
lastly, that which consists in intricacy, where 
ability comes in place of courage. In the 
first and last, application is equally neces¬ 
sary ; but as far as intellect is regarded, lite¬ 
rature must always retain a pre-eminence. 
The fatigue, exercise, and anxiety of mind, 
which an author has to encounter, also ap¬ 
pear greater than those which attend mili¬ 
tary stations; because it is the mind always 
which suffers, and the mind is much more 
engaged in the one case than in the other . 5 

5 There is this difference between the labour of the body* 
and of the mind, that, while the former produces health, the 
latter produces disease. 


ISO 


Every thing valuable seems, indeed, to be 
obtained with labour and pain. No one 
must, therefore, expect eminence, without 
fulfilling the condition which attends it. The 
surest method of acquiring distinction, in 
any profession, is by deserving it. In lite¬ 
rary pursuits, it is certainly, by no other 
means, to be attained ; for that reputation 
which owes its origin to casual incidents 
and present passions, must perish with the 
circumstances which give it birth. 

Whatever is formed to endure long, is of 
slow growth. Those who rise suddenly to 
eminence, generally sink as soon into obli¬ 
vion. Fame, which is destined to immorta¬ 
lity, is, for the most part, the effect of dili¬ 
gence, and matured by degrees. A person 
may, indeed, be so connected with great 
events, as to reach a lasting celebrity, with¬ 
out any uncommon talent or exertion. But, 
in literature, merit only can avail. For, as 
no other means of influence can, by an au¬ 
thor, be conveyed to posterity, than the 
beauties which his work contains, they must 


131 


be free from any other partiality than that 
which is universally felt towards what is 
useful or agreeable. Those, therefore, who 
wish to gain the approbation of succeeding 
generations, must endeavour to fix them¬ 
selves in their interests; which can be ac¬ 
complished by ability, only with the assist¬ 
ance of application. 


CHAPTER Xi: 

i&iismB cfioodfil Ip /yiie&'joa sd: vd baiid 

THE MIND EXCELS ONLY BY THE APPROPRIATION 
OF ITS POWERS. 

-YJOflif Oilfjpos ol TSD'^O i ,i'bbai>i' l tf',fI08S3T 

The extent and variety of nature are so 
immense, that the labour of the greatest 
mind, when diffused over it, amounts to lit¬ 
tle. The improvement, success, and per¬ 
formances of the mind, must, therefore, in 
a great measure, depend upon its exertions 
being concentrated. 

An inferior mind, if it has been directed 
solely to one object, will excel a greater 
which has not been directed to that object, 
and which can form ideas of it only from 
general analogy; and the inferior will, on 
that subject, be capable of instructing the 
superior. Pope is said to have received 
much assistance from inferiors, in enabling 


133 


him to understand the language of the Iliad, 
and to have got the entire system of his 
“ Essay on Man” from Bolingbroke; who, 
though a person of no mean genius, was still 
inferior to Pope. 

Universal excellence is sufficiently prohi¬ 
bited by the necessity of labour to acquisi¬ 
tion. On every subject, tve must think, 
reason, and decide, in order to acquire know¬ 
ledge, form opinion, and attain judgment. 
However free an agent the mind may natu¬ 
rally be, or however transcendent the abili¬ 
ties of any particular person, there exists no 
power of excellence different from clearness 
of apprehension and facility of decision. The 
credulity of mankind can alone have created 
that supernatural and miraculous genius, 
which does not depend upon the ordinary 
relation of cause and effect, and which dis¬ 
solves the connection between effort and 
excellence. An individual beauty may, in¬ 
deed, be the result of thoughtless impetuosi¬ 
ty, joined with a particular occasion. But 
a continued stream of excellence can be the 


134 


produce only of that assiduity, by which 
perfections are formed and accumulated, and 
by which art is made to resemble nature. 
Montesquieu is reported to have left behind 
him several volumes of notes, from which 
he extracted his “ Spirit of Laws,” and Butler 
is said to have made a collection of thoughts 
before he wrotehis “ Hudibras.” Even sim¬ 
plicity is seldom the offspring of ignorance. 
Nature is, in every case, best imitated by 
skill and refinement. 

It is, in reality, as absurd to think that a 
person could be wise on any subject without 
experience, as to imagine that he could have 
ideas without objects, or that he could rea¬ 
son upon the things of this world before he 
came into it. 

As nothing of importance is performed by 
the mind without great perseverance and 
exertion, the belief of the existence of such 
a being as a universal genius, capable, with¬ 
out application, of excellence of thought on 
any subject, must be classed with those in¬ 
dulgences in imagination which have pro- 


135 


duced the philosopher’s stone which turns 
every thing into gold-bormol am anoiioohoq 

Great natural powers, before they are ap¬ 
plied to any particular subject, are, indeed, 
universal. But they are universal only in 
the choice of the subject on which they are 
to be exerted; and, if variously employed, 
“ resemble expanded metals which lose ip 
strength what they acquire in extension.” 
Thus, Swift is said to be rather a wandering 
comet, than a fixed star; and if it had not 
been for his “ Gulliver’s Travels,” a work 
equally suited to the old and the young, and 
ns full of satire as it is of novelty, perhaps 
he never would have been considered a man 
of great genius. 

Excellence has a correspondence with the 
industry of those who possess ability, but. 
great excellence only with the appropriation 
of that industry. To be eminent in any pur¬ 
suit, commonly requires all the exertion of 
our talents in that department in which we 
propose to become conspicuous; and, if a 


13Q 


person ^xcel in any profession, it will gene¬ 
rally be found that he excels in it alone. 
Few are eminent; and those few confine 
their superiority within a narrow circle, and 
shine within a limited sphere. Every per¬ 
son finds it necessary to chuse a certain pro¬ 
fession, or restricted mode of exerting his 
abilities, and to condemn himself to volun¬ 
tary ignorance in many sciences, that he 
may excel in one. 

Those who are remarkable for talent or 
attainment in one respect, are generally as 
much deficient in another. Men of business 
are, for the most part, ignorant of science, and 
men of science incapable of business. That 
extreme simplicity in the ordinary affairs of 
life, which so frequently accompanies the 
highest powers, shows the difficulty of trans¬ 
ferring the mind from one extreme to ano¬ 
ther. While it has so often rendered men 
of the greatest capacity objects of ridicule 
and entertainment to their inferiors, it is a 
circumstance to prove that the most exalted 


137 

genius is by no means boundless, and that 
industry forms an ingredient in the greatest 
character. 

Every variety of intellectual ability may, 
indeed, be said to depend upon the capabi¬ 
lity of intense thought; although this is, per¬ 
haps, only to vary terms without solving any 
difficulty. The question still comes to be, 
whether force of mind is derived from appli¬ 
cation, or application from mental energy ? 
A very moderate degree of attention seems, 
however, sufficient to strain the intellectual 
powers. From the limited nature of the 
human mind, we must always proceed in 
the acquisition of knowledge, by the gradual 
progress of multiplying discriminations, and 
making one distinction succeed another. To 
determine between two qualities is generally 
sufficient to employ the whole force of our 
intellects, and by repeating their exercise 
upon the same subject, all its parts, at last, 
undergo the inspection of the mind. But, 
as it is impossible to do two things at once , we 


K 


138 

cannot direct our attention to one study 
without neglecting another. 

/ The productions of the mind will, there¬ 
fore, always be great, in proportion as the 
circle of its employment is contracted ; as it 
reduces an extensive range of experience to 
a small point, and confines great exertions 
to a particular object. 

Capacity, conjoined with industry, insures 
excellence; but in what occupation, or upon 
what subject, depends entirely upon the 
choice which a person may make; for, if 
he dedicate his attention to mathematics in¬ 
stead of poetry, it is evident that mathema¬ 
tics will receive from him that consideration 
which otherwise would have been bestowed 
upon poetry, and that he will succeed in the 
one pursuit to a greater degree than in the 
other, according to the preference with which 
he has distributed his labour. 

The value of any acquisition, indeed, re¬ 
fers to the purpose to which it is to be ap¬ 
plied. Locke says “ the mind should always 


139 

be free, and at liberty to turn itself to thd 
variety of objects that occur*” This is, with¬ 
out question, the most useful condition of 
ideas. A certain proficiency is also to be 
made, by those who possess natural capaci¬ 
ty, in all subjects, and a considerable degree 
of ability may, undoubtedly, be accompa¬ 
nied with the power of varying its applica¬ 
tion. But facility of transferring the mind 
from one object to another, and of adapting 
it to the change of circumstances, is incom¬ 
patible with every superior attainment; for 
it has been remarked, that general informa¬ 
tion is for the most part superficial, and that 
those who aim at universal talent are sel¬ 
dom distinguished for any thing great. 

Most persons are capable of a certain de¬ 
gree of skill in every science, but never reach 
perfection, because they rest satisfied with 
their first attempts, or turn their attention 
another way. From labour, united with 
enthusiasm for a particular pursuit, perhaps, 
are derived all those distinctions by which 
great men are produced. It may, no doubt* 
K 2 


140 

be said, that enthusiasm is to be considered 
rather as an indication than the cause of 
genius ; that the consciousness of superior 
powers is accompanied with a craving for 
action, and an irresistible impulse to great 
undertakings. But the number of those 
who, in every age and country, have shown 
themselves equal to those things which most 
dazzle mankind, bring all men nearly to a 
level. Many are undoubtedly distinguished 
by those accidents which beget enthusiasm 
and afford opportunity of action ; while, 
again, many remain in oblivion, because 
their minds have never been excited. 

Some men push their acquirements farther 
than others; but great genius is always con¬ 
fined to a particular object. The extent of 
acquisition may not find a limit, but the 
range is never without one. Science, it is 
said, is long ; life short. 

M One science only will one genius fit; 

So vast is art, so narrow human wit.” 

Caesar is distinguished as a general; Aris¬ 
totle, as a philosopher; Homer, as a poet; 


141 

but neither Caesar, nor Aristotle, nor Homer, 
is distinguished as general, philosopher, and 
poet. The king of Prussia endeavoured to 
perform the parts of all three, but succeeded 
only *in the department of one* To those 
employments which may be called useful, 
the same reasoning applies. Some excel in 
one science, some in a particular branch; 
and reputation is always great according as 
the object of attention is minute. The world 
has, in fact, no confidence in any one who 
attempts to unite two different characters, 
who is at once lawyer and physician, meta¬ 
physician and poet . 45 In the mechanical 
arts, again, it is well known, that skill de¬ 
pends upon what is called “ the division of 
labour,” and that the farther this division is 
carried, the greater dexterity is acquired. 

The restriction of our powers is, in reality, 
the great secret of all excellence, and the 
same importance of appropriation holds in 
K 3 

6 Neither Goldsmith nor Akenside were successful as phy¬ 
sicians. 


14a 


one pursuit as in another. Although no^ 
thing is more capable of exciting admiration 
than an exalted degree of genius, nothing is 
so limited and circumscribed in its action. 
As the mind is known and distinguished 
only by its productions, if its efforts be di¬ 
vided and weakened, it loses the appellation 
of great, and is deprived of the characteristic 
of superiority. Hence it is that men re¬ 
ceive the credit of the assistance derived 
from the subjects on which they have been 
employed ; and hence it is that, in defining 
genius, it has been thought necessary to in¬ 
clude appropriation oflabourJ 

w cbfriw oi , iy* 

7 “ True genius,” says Johnson, “ is a mind of large ge¬ 
neral powers accidentally determined to some particular di¬ 
rection.” 

ib'Vrft jwbcta zfnidiP 1 s rfs/ 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE TREATING OF SIMPLE SUBJECTS NOT LESS PE- 
CULIAR TO INFERIOR MINDS, THAN THAT OF 
EXTENSIVE TO SUPERIOR. 

On nothing, however, does the appropria¬ 
tion of mental efforts, and the success of in¬ 
tellectual labour depend so much, as the due 
proportion of subject to capacity, which is 
as inconsistent with too small as with too 
great a degree of difficulty. 

As there are some subjects above the ca¬ 
pacity of some minds, so there are others 
which have not difficulty sufficient to attract 
the attention of other minds. 

A person always exerts himself as he is 
interested, studies as he is engaged, and ap¬ 
plauds himself according to the difficulties 


144 

which he surmounts. When the universal 
reluctance to labour is overcome, we com¬ 
monly fix upon that which demands our 
greatest efforts. That subject which fills 
the mind is, in general, no less capable of 
stimulating industry than of drawing forth 
vigour. 

There is a certain enthusiasm, or rapture, 
which every person feels when his mind is 
on the stretch. This is the parent of suc¬ 
cess. But, as it is peculiar neither to the 
highest nor the lowest capacity, it is a proof 
merely of exertion, and nothing more than 
the effect of a comparison of our own efforts 
with our own powers. 

That which excites the exertion of one 
person, may have very little influence upon 
another. Every pursuit requires talents, if 
not of a particular kind, at least of a certain 
size. Extensive subjects are best adapted 
to great, and simple to more slender powers. 

It is, indeed, difficult, sometimes, to disco¬ 
ver whether indifference to a particular ob¬ 
ject indicates superiority or inferiority of 


145 


capacity, as both extremes tend equally to 
produce disgust But this is certain, that 
the mind performs always best that which 
its abilities are best proportioned to, when 
they are neither too great to deprive of in¬ 
terest, nor too small to disqualify for execu¬ 
tion. 

Want of interest has almost the same con¬ 
sequences with regard to the mind, as want 
of ability; both equally incapacitating. Men 
are seldom more capable of doing justice to 
those subjects which are inferior, than to 
those which are superior, to them ; and it is 
almost as difficult to a strong mind to bring 
its attention to an unimportant subject, as it 
is to a weak to be interested in that which it 
cannot comprehend. 

Before a person can succeed in any un¬ 
dertaking, he must feel a pleasure in it; for, 
when taste is wanting for any thing, it will 
be but badly performed. Hence it often 
happens, that those who possess the greatest 
abilities appear the most deficient, by being 
engaged in circumstances which want the 


146 


power of attracting them, and oppressed by 
duties which they feel no enjoyment in dis¬ 
charging. 

Want of taste for any employment some¬ 
times depends upon the habits of the mind, 
and sometimes upon its abilities ; sometimes 
the habits of the mind give a cast to its abi¬ 
lities ; and sometimes its abilities occasion 
the peculiarities of its habits . 8 But it is as 
improbable that any person will succeed in 
that for which he has no taste, as that he 
will excel without application. 

Attention, taste, and application, depend 
always upon importance ; and importance 
upon a medium between difficulty and faci¬ 
lity. Some things are uninteresting, because 
superior to our abilities; others, because in¬ 
ferior. While the mind is rendered unsuit¬ 
able to one pursuit, by being capable of a 
higher; it becomes adapted to another, only 

8 Talent may be said to fix, whether the class to which an 
individual belongs be high or low; taste, the species of that 
class. But much depends upon excellence in the class cho¬ 
sen ; and taste and talent are often so mixed, that it is diffi¬ 
cult to distinguish the one from the other. 


147 

by being inadequate to a greater. Hence 
character is diversified by the gradations of 
ability, no less than by peculiarity of appli¬ 
cation, and varies according to the rank 
which individuals hold in the scale of genius. 
Hence some persons excel in comprehen¬ 
sion, and others in individual accuracy; 
some in plan, and others in execution; some 
in constructing systems, and others in nar¬ 
rating facts, or describing circumstances. 

The ability of those who excel in general 
views is, indubitably, as far superior to that 
of those whose merit is confined nicety, as 
great is superior to small. But the excel¬ 
lence of the latter, in their own department, 
cannot be rivalled by the former; for, when 
a person’s talents are not more extensive 
than that on which he is employed requires, 
he is interested in a degree as much greater 
than others, as his mind is less comprehen¬ 
sive. 

A man of superior understanding resem¬ 
bles one placed on an eminence, whose at¬ 
tention to particular objects diminishes as 


148 


his prospect increases. The mind, when it 
is chiefly employed upon the great, neglects 
the minute; and, as no comprehension can 
be equal to the conception of all the con¬ 
nections and dependencies of any subject, 
while it is occupied by ideas which are pro¬ 
found, those which are obvious escape. 

The remote and the familiar can never be 
united in the same person in perfection. For, 
as the vigour of a mind, accustomed to ex¬ 
tensive view, and to the contemplation of 
distant connection, must continually compel 
it to return to that manner of thinking which 
is peculiar and habitual, remote would over¬ 
whelm and confound all attempts to intro¬ 
duce familiar ideas. Reasoning and decla¬ 
mation are, in a great measure, inconsistent. 
To prefer a weaker to a stronger reason, or 
to furnish that which is inferior to what the 
mind can afford, is a species of self-denial 
which every person finds difficult to per¬ 
form. 

Those who excel in the higher species of 
literature, are seldom possessed of much art 


149 

in the inferior; those who are accustomed 
to demonstration and strong reasoning, are 
seldom capable of the flights of fancy; and 
those who possess the power of tracing the 
intricate mazes, and distinguishing between 
the operations of human passions, have sel¬ 
dom much skill in painting them in their 
original obscurity. 

But if a superior mind employ itself on 
trifling subjects, it will be capable of exalt¬ 
ing them, and, if sentiment is intended, be 
in danger of changing it into reasoning . 9 
Poetry has always been considered as the 
art of engaging and moving the passions; 
but there is an English poet, who, impelled 
by natural strength of mind and native force 
of genius, has sometimes been didactic while, 
perhaps, he meant to be descriptive; and 
who has produced reasoning when he pro¬ 
bably intended sentiment. 


9 Dr. Johnson’s “ Rasselas” is no more a novel than any 
of his “ Ramblers.” “ Candid,” a performance on the same 
subject, displays a much greater diversity of character, and va¬ 
riety of incident, although the production of an inferior mind. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


SOME MEN HAVE TOO MUCH GENIUS FOR SOME 
SUBJECTS. 

That some persons have too much genius 
for some subjects, and lose as much reputa¬ 
tion by the superiority, as others do by the 
inferiority, of their capacity, are facts which 
experiment has proved. 

Some performances require less talent 
than others. Poetry has little connection 
with the judgment, but should be addressed 
chiefly to the passions, as the sole purpose 
of it is to amuse. The excellence of poetry 
is to engage, or display, the passions; which 
can be accomplished only by diffuse descrip¬ 
tion, not by appeals to the understanding in 
the form of abstract reasoning. Where rea¬ 
son is concerned, consequences and general 


151 


conclusions are of most importance; where 
passion, facts and circumstances Hence 
the merit and difficulty of philosophy is the 
plan ; but of poetry, the execution. 

In poetry, the manner is of primary im¬ 
portance, the matter but of secondary consi¬ 
deration. A subject which is trite and ex¬ 
hausted may, by the happy talent of doing 
things agreeably, be rendered so fascinating 
as to regain every charm of novelty.' In 

1 Our pleasure in reading the following passage does not: 
surely arise from the ideas which it furnishes, but from the art 
which appears in it.— 

" Lo ! all in silence, all in order stand. 

And mighty Folios first, a lordly band ; 

Then Quartos their well order’d ranks maintain, 

And light Octavos fill a spacious plain; 

See yonder, rang’d in more frequented rows. 

An humbler band of Duodecimos; 

While undistinguish’d trifles swell the scene. 

The last new Play, and fritter’d Magazine.” 

Nor in this more beautiful passage :— 

“ And now, unveil’d, the toilet stands display’d. 

Each silver vase in mystic order laid. 

First, rob’d in white, the nymph intent adores. 

With head uncover’d, the cosmetic powers; 

A heav’nly image in the glass appears. 


152 


works of amusement, it is not, perhaps, so 
necessary that our thoughts should be excel¬ 
lent, numerous, or penetrating, as that they 
should be highly ornamented, and polished 
in expression. The object is to select only 
what is agreeable. However destitute such 
performances may be of general ideas, or 
however little calculated to expand the 
mind; yet, if everything they contain be 
pleasant, they must be considered perfect. 
Poetry may be deficient in whatever renders 
philosophy valuable, and yet be excellent. 
While irregularity is condemned in the lat- 

To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears; 

Th’ inferior priestess, at her altar’s side. 

Trembling, begins the sacred rites of pride. 

Unnumber’d treasures ope at once, and here 
The various offerings of the world appear ; 

From each she nicely culls, with curious toil. 

And decks the goddess with the glittering spoil. 

This casket India’s glowing gems unlocks. 

And all Arabia breathes from yonder box; 

The tortoise here and elephant unite. 

Transform’d to combs, the speckl’d and the white. 

Here files of pins extend their shining rows, 

•Fuffs, powders, patches, bibles, billet doux.” 


153 


ter, it is, if not considered a beauty in the 
former, at least an imperfection, which, when 
accompanied with those qualities which af¬ 
fect the feelings, we are easily induced to 
pardon. Provided the characters and inci¬ 
dents of poetical fiction be natural and in¬ 
teresting, we are little solicitous about the 
propriety of their introduction ; provided a 
poem be filled with beautiful passages, we 
are ready to forgive every deficiency of plan, 
irregularity and disorder. In poetry, all re¬ 
flections are well timed, if well expressed; 
no character is improper which is interest¬ 
ing, no scene misplaced which is natural; 
every mode of style is permitted; the gay 
and the grave, the serious and the humorous, 
may be mixed together, without improprie¬ 
ty ; and exclamation, interrogation, and eve¬ 
ry variety of expression, naturally introduce 
each other. In short, every picture in poe¬ 
try is proper, if well drawn. As beauty is 
the soul of poetical composition, the pre¬ 
sence of that quality is sufficient to compen¬ 
sate the absence of every other. 

L 


154 


But, to philosophy, the reverse is appli¬ 
cable. While the laxity of fancy admits all 
ideas, the severity of philosophy rejects ma¬ 
ny. While the former shows but a few 
qualities, the latter must neglect none. Fan¬ 
cy may be complete without fullness, and 
perfect with superfluity ; but philosophy al¬ 
lows neither repetition nor omission/ Ex¬ 
tensive system, a regular subordination of 
parts, and a rigid correctness of arrange¬ 
ment only can render works intended to 
facilitate the acquisition of knowledge, to 
simplify and generalize nature, perfect; for, 
with whatever care and accuracy particulars 
are delineated, unless they be formed into a 
regular system, showing their mutual de- 

2 The labour necessary to purify, and render complete, 
any work, is generally invisible. But the difference between 
one which pleases, notwithstanding omissions, repetitions, 
and contradictions, and another which contains neither more 
nor less than propriety demands, is immense. Of Shakespeare, 
Hume say's,—“ And there may even remain a suspicion that 
we over-rate; if possible, the greatness of his genius, in the 
same manner as bodies often appear more gigantic on account 
of their being disproportioned and mis-shapen." 


155 


pendance, little is accomplished towards di¬ 
minishing the variety of nature, or assisting 
the determinations of the mind. Nothing 
can, therefore, be more distinct than the 
excellence of works of amusement, and of 
those of science; the first being of a parti¬ 
cular, and the second of a general nature; 
and nothing more evident than by which 
the greater portion of genius is displayed. 

To those, however, who possess superior 
powers of mind, the small is more difficult 
than the great, and execution than plan; 
because inferior excellencies do not require 
genius, but industry; and industry is always 
proportioned to interest. 

That degree of capacity which enables a 
person to abridge the difficulty of thinking, 
tends to alienate his affections from indivi¬ 
dual objects, and to produce a disgust at the 
meaner employment of execution. 

A person may understand the philosophy 
of literary labour, without possessing the 
power of delineation in such a degree as 
those who do not. He may be able to de- 
l2 


156 


cide between the merits of works of fancy, 
and to point out in what respect they have 
failed in touching the passions, the reason of 
that failure, and that arrangement of events 
or objects which would have been attended 
with success; but, although capable ot great¬ 
er things, utterly unable, in representing the 
passions, to equal those who know nothing 
but the passions, who do not see beyond 
them, and who write entirely by instinct. 
It is probable that Locke, the author of one 
of the sublimest systems ever conceived by 
man, would not have excelled in the pathos 
of tragedy, the delicate sentiment and de¬ 
scriptive scenery of poetry, or in the circum¬ 
stantial beauties of fable ; yet authors who 
excel in all these may be found, whose com¬ 
prehension does not extend from one end of 
their own performances to another . 3 


3 Of the power of moving the passions, by the accurate paint¬ 
ing of particulars without any distinct idea of generals, there 
is, perhaps, to be found no better instance than Sterne. Part of 
his irregularity is, no doubt, affected ; but his illustration of 
the connection between wit and judgment by the two knobs 


157 


It is impossible that those who possess 
superior powers can produce in themselves 
that enthusiasm for inferior subjects, which 
is the first step towards success in every li¬ 
terary employment. 

That is best and most naturally perform¬ 
ed by the mind to which it is most closely 
united by both its abilities and habits. In 
works of amusement, those, whose ideas 
arise from passion and feeling, will have a 
greater chance to succeed, than those who 
endeavour to write sentiment with the apa¬ 
thy of reflection. Philosophy is as incon¬ 
sistent with poetry, as abstraction is with 
passion. 

Pleasure is greatest when free from all 
restraint, care, and difficulty. Those works, 
again, are most consonant to the laws of 

O 7 

L 3 

on the back of a chair (and which he evidently thought very 
clever), is sufficient to show that he could go far for what 
was to be found near at hand. 

No author seems better adapted to sentiment, and less fitted 
for philosophy, than Helvetius. His trifling philosophy (as 
Hume called it) has absolutely no consistency. 


158 


pleasure which take it, and it alone, for 
their guide. The sublimest poets are seldom 
produced in the most refined ages, because 
the habits of reason then take place of the 
flights of fancy. They generally appear in 
the middle state, when the human mind is 
emerging from ignorance to knowledge. Of 
this, Milton and Shakespeare are striking 
instances. Had the latter lived in the pre¬ 
sent day, much of his originality, and espe¬ 
cially that happiness of expression in which 
he excels all poets, had been polished away 
by his learning; although it is apparent, 
that, without some degree of mental culture, 
he could have had no excellence whatever. 

As a continued exercise of strength of 
body destroys activity, acute thought dead¬ 
ens sentimental operations, and represses 
imagination. Correct thinking naturally 
leads to simplification and abstraction ; de¬ 
stroys the beauty of superficial reflection ; 4 

4 And of false ideas; of which the following is a specimen. 
“ Ye too, ye winds! that now begin to blow 
With boisthous sweep, I raise my voice to you. 


159 


and reduces the mind to a poverty of parti¬ 
cular ideas. It is to be remarked that the 
Spectator, even confining ourselves to Addi¬ 
son’s papers, contains more variety of cha¬ 
racter than the Rambler. How completely, 
likewise, might all Fielding’s fine observa¬ 
tions on human nature be superseded by a 
knowledge of the single principle of self love, 
which explains morality without the neces¬ 
sity of penetration or sagacity ! 

The higher rank of talent is alike incom- 
L 4 

Where are your stores, ye powerful Beings ! Say 
Where your aerial magazines reserv’d, 

To swell the brooding terrors of the storm ? 

In what far distant region of the sky. 

Hush’d in deep silence, sleep ye when ’tis calm ?” 

It is not meant to be contended that this personifica¬ 
tion is an instance of ignorance, but of art. Many similar 
passages are, however, to be found in both poetry and prose, 
the beauty of which arises entirely from the ideas being 
short-sighted, and which any performance aspiring to instruct 
can never admit, even as an ornament. Nothing of this kind 
appears in the poetry of Pope, notwithstanding the licence of 
poetry. The same cannot, however, be said of Addison’s 
prose. 


160 


patible with humour , fancy, and description > 
A person who is accustomed to oppose qua¬ 
lities to each other, and to condense his 
thoughts, has, in general, little familiarity 
with cases, and cannot easily submit to fol¬ 
low the tedious progress of a work of enter¬ 
tainment. He feels it difficult to employ 
his mind in arranging facts, in distinguish¬ 
ing the preference between particular events 
and circumstances, or pursuing the passions 
to discover effects of which he is demonstra¬ 
tively certain. No person has his attention 
so much at command as to render that im¬ 
portant which is indifferent To become 
pleasing by the minutiae of story-telling, is 
an excellence which many, because they 
despise it, can never attain, and which can 
never have charms sufficient to engage their 
minds, or to attract the vigour of their 
thoughts. 

The invisible art of writing in that simple 
and natural manner which interests the feel¬ 
ings, and fixes the attention,—commonly 
called genius, is certainly a rare and singular 


161 


quality ; but we praise it chiefly because we 
love it, and it is rather a happy than a great 
talent. It must not, indeed, be considered 
a correct definition of genius, 5 or, at least, 
if we are not to be governed by terms, of 
magnitude of intellect, to say that it is the 
power of doing that which no other person 
can do.* Ability, no doubt, consists in the 

5 Nothing can be more vague than the term genius, as it is 
commonly used. Sometimes it is applied to great talents , 
whether in philosophy or poetry; at other times it is used to 
signify merely inclination to a particular pursuit, without any 
extraordinary degree of ability; but most commonly, it it 
appropriated to imagination. This misapplication of the terra 
arises, evidently, from confusion of ideas, and it would be 
vain to attempt to confine to any precise meaning, a word so 
indefinitely used. Instead, therefore, of definition, it is the 
object of this Treatise to arrange the operations of the mind, 
together with those external circumstances by which they are 
affected, without regard to the abuse of words. As all quali¬ 
ties of the mind are here considered the same, excepting in 
degree, it may be sufficient to say that the term genius is 
used, in general, to signify, indiscriminately, every species of 
intellectual talent, and that great powers of mind are designa¬ 
ted by comprehension alone, without regard to subject. 

6 This is often a manner , arising from peculiarity of habit, 
conjoined with a certain degree of mental expansion. Man- 


102 


power of performing any thing, whether 
great or small, and, if a person want any 
portion of that power, he wants so much 
ability. But superiority of capacity is often 
an obstacle to those graces which are the 
chief charm of works of amusement. For, 
if the attention of the mind be not confined 
within a certain circle, it loses sight of all 
those minor ideas and particular objects, in 
which, whatever is beautiful, eloquent, and 
pleasing, in composition, consists. However 
wonderful the circumstance, it will, there¬ 
fore, be found, with little exception, that a 
great poet is but an ordinary genius. 

There is, undoubtedly, a certain medio¬ 
crity of understanding necessary to excel in 
the circumstances of fable, or the minutiae 
of sentiment, which a mind disposed to con¬ 
sider only the sum of facts, and the amount 
of particulars, must feel itself to want, as 
well as the necessary experience. Circum¬ 
stances will never be well painted by those 

ner is, indeed, important; but we cannot call it any thing 
other than it is. 


163 

who have accustomed themselves to view 
things in the abstract. Descriptive and fan¬ 
ciful productions are best finished, and most 
easily executed, by inferior minds. 7 Dr. 
Johnson had evidently too much genius for 
a tragic writer; and, if we separate things 
nicely from each other, and adhere to cor¬ 
rect definitions, Pope will, perhaps, appear 
to have had too much for a poet. The 
poetry of Pope is too abstract, too far re¬ 
moved from objects and the passions, and 
too logically close and didactic, to be pleas¬ 
ing. It must, therefore, be classed with 

7 Story-telling is a good criterion of ability. A man of 
sense is induced, by capacity, as well as inclination, to give 
only the sum and substance of facts. A person of ordinary 
capacity, again, follows no other line of narration than events, 
encumbered with every casual association present to him; his 
facetiousness and absurdity are both equally accidental. A 
story, however, to be well told, must be circumstantially nar¬ 
rated, because it is circumstance only which interests. The 
silliest persons are, generally, most minute in their attentions, 
and circumstantial in their stories. If, therefore, a person 
excel in story-telling, or possess what is called humour, there 
can be no better evidence that his abilities are not of the first 


rank. 


164 


those works which belong to judgment ra¬ 
ther than to fancy; although, at the same 
time, it abounds with striking similes and 
bold images, which show what the vigour of 
a strong mind can produce on such subjects. 
The pathetic simplicity and romantic wild¬ 
ness of Gray, the descriptive beauties and 
rural luxuriance of Thomson, and the un¬ 
affected tenderness and native ease of Shen- 
stone , 8 9 as they correspond with the passions, 
seem to constitute the true spirit of poetry 
But such qualities, a mind, accustomed to 
abstraction, method, and conciseness, can¬ 
not, from the correctness which characterises 
it, readily command. Neither can it, from 
that dispassionate habit which abstraction 

8 Of the difference between the spirit of the poetry of 
Pope and that of Shenstone, no other proof will be required 
than a comparison between their pastorals. 

9 It is said that poetry may become the medium of any 
species of science, as well as of amusement; and, perhaps, 
this taste, which prefers fanciful to didactic poetry, will not 
be generally adopted. The author cannot, however, avoid 
thinking that didactic or philosophical poetry is an attempt to 
unite inconsistent things. 


165 


induces, enter into the spirit, nor even con¬ 
ceive an idea, of what should be felt by a 
poet. 

A poet or a tragedian writes from senti* 
ment and feeling, but a philosopher or a 
moralist from knowledge and recollection* 
The poet, in order to copy nature correctly, 
puts himself in the place of his characters; 
endeavours to feel what they are supposed 
to feel, to catch the enthusiasm of situation, 
and speak the language of passion. 

The property of the philosopher is the 
causes of things; that of the poet, their ef¬ 
fects. The poet has only to delineate things 
as they are ; but the philosopher has to 
remark their differences, or to unite their 
related qualities. To the latter of these, 
Pope evidently approaches nearer than to 
the former; for his poetry is rather remarks 
on things than pictures of them. Although, 
therefore, he holds the first rank in the scale 
of genius, he must be content to fill only a 
secondary in that of fancy or poetry. 

The truth of that seeming paradox—that 


166 


no man can excel in that which is inferior, 
more than in that which is superior to him, 
has been proved by experiment. It is evi¬ 
dently true that Dr. Johnson could not paint 
particular objects in the beautiful and capti¬ 
vating colours of Addison; although it is 
equally apparent that it was merely because 
his mind was too great to stoop to such em¬ 
ployment; for the Spectator seems only to 
have furnished the data of the Rambler, and 
materials for generalization. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


GENIUS NOT TO BE ESTIMATED BY THE DEGREE 
OF PLEASURE WHICH ANY PRODUCTION AFFORDS. 

Reason alone is that quality which consti¬ 
tutes personal importance, and every species 
of human excellence. Yet, as amusement 
is always more agreeable than instruction, 
the productions of fancy are generally pre¬ 
ferred to those of the superior powers of dis¬ 
crimination. 

Whatever is curious or refined is lost to 
persons of slender capacity: wit is not un¬ 
derstood, and acute remarks and nice dis¬ 
tinctions escape. Extensive reflection, and 
expanded views, are necessary to a taste for 
the great. Men of talents only are capable 
of understanding the works, and doing jus¬ 
tice to the merits, of each other. The 


168 


applause of mankind is, therefore, generally 
bestowed upon that which is most suitable 
to their faculties. 

Every person is qualified to judge of style 
and decoration; but very few, of the sub¬ 
stantial part of composition. Incident and 
fable have the same effect upon mankind, in 
all circumstances, and situations; but pure 
and unadorned reasoning is capable of inte¬ 
resting only the few. For, as objects are 
more easily viewed than their qualities com¬ 
prehended, the flowers of rhetoric, the charms 
of sentiment, and the beauties of description, 
must have many admirers, when strength of 
reasoning, and force of penetration, are ne¬ 
glected. 

It is true, principles must be taken from 
facts. Gold is taken from the earth; but a 
quantity of pure gold is of more value than 
when mixed with the dross of the mine. 
Brilliancy is, however, always preferred to 
solidity, and the ornamental to the pro¬ 
found. Uniform abstract thought, as it pre¬ 
sents no objects, becomes tiresome. It is no 


169 

wonder, therefore, that men confer the high¬ 
est honour on that which is most agreeable; 
that works of amusement hold a superior 
rank to those of philosophy ; that the narra¬ 
tion of facts and enumeration of circum¬ 
stances are preferred to demonstration ; and 
the appellation of superior genius bestowed 
on that which is captivating, rather than on 
that which is great or profound. Every de¬ 
gree of reasoning is certainly distinct, as it is 
abstract; and general ideas are absolutely 
necessary to accuracy of judgment. But 
that declamatory style, which is fluent be¬ 
cause the matter is incorrect, and harmo¬ 
nious because the expression is indefinite, 
will command the greater number of ad¬ 
mirers ; for, provided the ear be filled with 
sound, little attention is often paid to sub¬ 
ject. 

Hence it is the fate of many great authors 
to be more spoken of than read* With the 
names of Aristotle, Descartes, Bacon, Locke, 
and Newton, every person is familiar, but 
M 


170 


with their works few are acquainted. 1 While 
they are considered the ultimate cause of 
all the wisdom and accuracy of the whole 
tribe of authors, they are left to their own 
solitary greatness; and men chuse, for com¬ 
panions, those of a gayer cast and lighter 
air. Against those giants, however, who 
divide the intellectual world, detraction dare 
not raise its voice. But those of the imme¬ 
diately inferior class, who are still too great 
to please, and serious to amuse, have felt 
the displeasure of mankind, and have been 
ranked below those who do not fatigue by 
teaching, and who are slender enough to be 
agreeable. Thus, a writer decides in the 

1 Aristotle was certainly one of the greatest men, if not 
the greatest man, that ever appeared in the world ; and gene¬ 
ralized more subjects than any other individual. His philo¬ 
sophy maintained its empire over the human mind, till the 
time of Descartes, who introduced the ideal philosophy; yet 
Locke, as it were, improving upon his hint, is the person who 
has done most for that system. But of all those abovemen- 
tioned, Aristotle may be placed first in rank; and Bacon, 
although a discoverer and a great man, last. Locke and 
Newton may be allowed an equality. 


171 


negative, the question whether Burke was 
the author of Junius’ Letters, because he 
considers them inferior to the productions of 
Burke, and because, in his opinion, their 
author possessed very good, though not very 
great, talents.* Burke’s capacity was un¬ 
doubtedly very great, as well as very bril¬ 
liant, and united extensive views with the 
most various fancy. But, although the Let¬ 
ters of Junius are not so much strewed with 
similes, and powdered with metaphors, as 
his productions; yet they far exceed them 
in compressing extensive subjects within 
narrow limits, which must be considered 
the chief indication of strength of mind* 
The Letters of Junius, after the Orations of 
Demosthenes, perhaps more than any other 
work, show “ the compacted might of ge¬ 
nius .” 2 3 

M 2 

2 See Bisset’s Life of Burke. 

3 Some persons speak of imitating Junius; but it is diffW 
cult to see how a person could imitate him, unless he possess¬ 
ed his ability. 


172 


Style is merely thought, embodied into 
expression; and the merit of composition 
generally consists in that strength of mind 
which it evinces, or the degree in which it 
teaches the science of nature. But, on this 
point, critics are not a little unreasonable. 
If a book be not abstruse, it is called super¬ 
ficial ; and if it be abstruse, too dry to be 
read. To be adapted to all tastes, therefore, 
it must combine the general with the parti¬ 
cular, and illustrate principles by cases. But 
that any work can be concise and diffuse at 
the same time, is impossible* Conciseness 
seems to consist in omitting particulars, and, 
therefore, naturally leads to abstraction. But 
may it not become a question, whether ab¬ 
straction with brevity, or minuteness with 
diffusiveness, be preferable ? To a man of 
moderate genius, the former will appear 
most irksome ; to a man of great, the latter. 
But, perhaps, they are two distinct things, 
and each may possess its own merit without 
interfering with the other. 

Both are bad in excess, and good in mo- 


173 


deration. General principles may be lost 
in illustration and detail , 4 5 or minuteness car¬ 
ried so far as to destroy all distinction ; s 
while, on the contrary, abstraction may lead 
to insulated maxims, and conciseness pro¬ 
duce rigidity and stiffness. A degree of cir¬ 
cumstance gives relief to attention ; and as 
leaves are necessary to shelter fruit, a certain 
portion of verbiage is required to give ease 
to sense, and fluency to language. 

To compositions addressed to the affec¬ 
tions, much thought is always injurious; for, 
as soon as we turn wise, or begin to make 
remarks, passion ceases, and reflection com¬ 
mences. To write, therefore, merely to 
entertain, care must be taken not to over¬ 
burden the subject with matter, nor to sink 
M 3 


4 It hj *9 been remarked, that a great book is a great evil. 
But the maxim seems now to be, that not to write a great 
book, is not to write a good book. Malthus has written two 
large volumes to prove that men cannot live without food. 

5 This is the fact with regard to Kaimes* " Elements of 
Criticism." 


into insignificance. The point of perfection 
here is delicate. As insipidity will disgust; 
so merit may be too uniform to please, and 
excellence too great to be consistent with 
simplicity. 

That which is most general is most ele¬ 
gant, and that which is slightest possesses, 
in the highest degree, the charms of beauty/ 
Strength is always accompanied with some 
portion of clumsiness; and a form which 
is modelled to the nicest symmetry, must 
partty suffer in robustness. There are two 

* The Grammont Memoirs, written by Count Hamilton, 
are admired for their elegance and simplicity; yet Voltaire 
has said that nothing could be more trifling than the subject. 
The truth is, that a statement of facts pleases by its obvious¬ 
ness, while any remark which may now and then occur, like 
the wild-rose, strikes by its rarity. On the contrary, a col¬ 
lection of general ideas resembles flowers in a garden: all are 
upon an equality, and each passes without distinction. 

Dr. Goldsmith seems to have possessed exactly that degree 
of genius which corresponds with elegance. Nothing can be 
more easy and agreeable than his language; but analyze his 
dissertations, and you will generally find them both super¬ 
ficial and erroneous. But Sterne is a model of true simpli¬ 
city. 


175 


species of writers ; one whose sole pur- 
pose is to improve, and another to amuse; 
one who address themselves to the under¬ 
standing, and another to the passions; one 
who regard only acuteness of remark and 
accuracy of opinion, and another who study 
merely words and sounds, and who imagine 
the perfection of all composition consists in 
harmony of periods. 

That work which displays great strength 
of thought and weight of matter, but which 
is defective in elegance of expression, is al¬ 
ready valuable, and requires only to be put 
in better dress to become agreeable ; and he 
who can distinguish between things, can easi¬ 
ly, if he chuses, distinguish between words. 
But that which possesses no other excellence 
than merely elegance of expression, resem¬ 
bles colour without substance, or is similar 
to the mathematical definition of a surface 
—length and breadth without thickness. 
That style which is not loaded with the 
greatest degree of thought, will admit the 
most melodious flow of words, and the most 
M 4 


harmonious periods. But those who are 
not governed by vulgar prejudice, who pre¬ 
fer reason to fancy, and sense to sound, will 
endeavour to store the memory with remarks 
and ideas; with whatever improves judg¬ 
ment, extends knowledge, or enlarges the 
expanse of the mind ; and employ them¬ 
selves rather in reasoning on, than in deli¬ 
neating things, or arranging words. 7 

The power of expression, however, in re¬ 
commending the meanest, or debasing the 
noblest productions of the mind, is incal¬ 
culable. In poetry, it renders every thing 
brilliant; perfections shine, and faults be- 

7 The degree of art which appears in literature ; and which, 
in distinction to natural talent, is properly termed acquired, 
renders it necessary to remark, that the best writer is not al¬ 
ways the wisest man. We often find a flow of language 
where nothing is decided : a person may excel in minute sen¬ 
timents and the use of trite phrases, without any enlarged 
views, or uncommon vigour of understanding. Sir William 
Draper, notwithstanding the elegance of his letters, seems to 
have been, in the main, a man of but slender talents. On the 
^contrary, many persons could have written Locke’s philoso¬ 
phy better than himself, although few could have originally 
conceived it. 


177 


come luminous. Even in prose, by an ele¬ 
gant selection and distribution of words, the 
most trivial thoughts, and unmeaning com¬ 
positions, may be imposed upon us for the 
most important; while the most comprehen¬ 
sive ideas and accurate discriminations may 
be so debased, by a coarse and vulgar style, 
as to lose every appearance of excellence. 
Those really fine thoughts which we admire 
when cloathed in elegant language, will, in 
an uncouth dress, no longer appear the 
same ; and we can hardly believe that sense 
is sense, when degraded by expression . 8 It 
is, therefore, evident, that the best conceived 
and noblest plan still requires, before it can 
be perfect, that its parts be laboured with 
all the skill of execution, and that the finest 

8 As an instance of genius degraded by expression, that 
most natural and beautiful of all Pastorals, Allan Ramsay’s 
“ Gentle Shepherd/’ may be here referred to. To a native 
of South Britain, the language of the Gentle Shepherd must 
seem an imperfect species of English, and even to a native of 
North Britain, often artificial Scotch; although this poem 
contains many beauties, depending on the very peculiar idiom 
of the Scotch language, which only a Scotchman can relish. 


178 


picture must partake of colouring as well as 
of design. This, however, shows only the 
necessity of uniting industry and art with 
genius, the agreeable with the great; and 
neither exalts the one nor debases the other : 
style must still remain subordinate to sub- 
ject, and the manner to the matter; the va¬ 
lue of the most exalted production of the 
mind may be diminished by the dress in 
which it appears, but the most fluent verbo¬ 
sity, devoid of meaning, can have no value 
whatever. 

Beauty of style and perfection of matter 
are, indeed, often concomitant. Elegance 
of style depends chiefly upon distinct com¬ 
prehension, and clear ideas of the subject on 
which we are employed.’ Good thoughts, 
therefore, for the most part, force a style for 

9 Delicacy of expression depends on delicacy of thinking. 
We must be familiarly acquainted with our subject, and long 
accustomed to revolve our thoughts, before we can express 
them with ease and elegance. By a little observation, it will 
appear that all the elegance of Dr. Johnson's style arises from 
a distinct knowledge of his subject, and a skilful combination 
of its relations. Mackintosh must, likewise, have been well 


179 


themselves. The first and greatest beauty 
of style is simplicity of arrangement, and 
delicacy of connection ; and surely nothing 
can be more immediately necessary to per¬ 
spicuity. The second perfection of style is 
the choice of the particular matter, which is 
elegant as it is comprised in general ideas. 
The next department of style is simile, me¬ 
taphor, and every species of figure. These 
qualities of style may be said to be adventi¬ 
tious, and intended merely for ornament, as 
the matter would suffer no injury in conti¬ 
nuity by being deprived of them. But, un¬ 
doubtedly, propriety of embellishment serves 
as much to illustrate the subject and enforce 
reasoning, as to engage attention and exer¬ 
cise imagination. The last requisite of style 
is expression, which may be divided into the 
choice and arrangement of words. With 
regard to the first, we must be directed by 
general use and the authority of celebrated 
writers; with regard to the second, that 

acquainted with his subject, before he could have written so 
distinct a book as “ Vindicice Gallicfe.” 


180 


arrangement is most elegant which con¬ 
trasts, while it combines, the members of a 
sentence. But the chief beauty of expres¬ 
sion is to use the exact number of words 
necessary, and no more. Another difficulty, 
however, remains to be mentioned, that is, 
the art of uniting sentences, and this is the 
greater as it demands variety as well as con¬ 
nection. 

As the term style is used, as a word of 
general signification, to characterize not only 
the mode of expression, but the manner of 
thinking, style and subject may be said to 
vary together, and the former to exhibit as 
many diversities as the latter. But, whether 
composition be grave or light, humorous or 
satirical, let it always be remembered that 
beauty consists more in idea than expres¬ 
sion ; and that it is not inflated language, 
but propriety of thought, which constitutes 
a good writer. So important is manner, 
that style may, in fact, be both elegant and 
correct, without being agreeable ; or it may 
be agreeable without much elegance or cor* 
rectness. 


CHAPTER XV. 


JUDGMENT AND IMAGINATION ONLY DIFFERENT 
APPLICATIONS OF THE MIND. 

Wo RKS of imagination may be preferred 
to those of judgment; but both are the pro¬ 
duce of one species of talent. 

It is very common for remiss thinkers to 
suppose, that the same thing, in different 
combinations, or applications, is different. 
Thus, flame and light are considered as dif¬ 
ferent, because perceived by different or¬ 
gans, although the difference is in us and 
not in them. The nature of the mind is, in 
like manner, thought to change with the 
mode of its operation. Men begin with 
making it one whole; but when they find 
it variously employed, split it into a thou¬ 
sand faculties, such as judgment, memory, 


182 


fancy, taste, and conscience.* But it is as 
great heresy against true philosophy to di¬ 
vide the mind, because its pursuits are dif¬ 
ferent ; as it is against true religion, to dis¬ 
solve the unity of the Deity, and multiply 
Gods, because events are sometimes the re¬ 
verse of each other/ 

The faculties of the mind have a mutual 
similarity and dependance, in the same liian- 

1 There is hardly any end to dividing the powers of the 
mind, still less of dividing genius into different classes. To 
characterize every particular talent which has arisen from 
peculiarity of attention, circumstances, or external causes, as 
a distinct species of mind, or at least as a distinct species of 
the same genus of intellectual faculties, tends only to perplex 
and confound our ideas on the subject. By tracing the ope¬ 
rations of the mind in different relations and combinations, 
they may be exhibited in a variety of lights, and accounted 
for, with truth and accuracy, under a multiplicity of appella¬ 
tions. The purpose of philosophy is not, however, to multi¬ 
ply, but to simplify, causes, and to trace phaenomena to a 
common origin. It signifies little, therefore, what term intel¬ 
lectual exertions receive, provided they are reduced to an in¬ 
dividual act or operation ; and, perhaps, the greatest simpli¬ 
fication of the efforts of genius would be to denominate them 
the association of relations according to our experience. 

2 Hume says this is the origin of Polytheism, 


183 


ner as the qualities of matter are necessarily 
connected . 3 Where one is present, another 
cannot be absent . 4 Minds are, therefore, to 

3 The mind I would define,—a substance not less real than 
matter, but totally different. Both are known merely by 
their qualities; and those of the former are as numerous as 
those of the latter. The qualities of matter are magnitude, 
density, form , extension , &c.; those of the mind, consciousness, 
pleasure and pain, judgment, will, memory, &c. The qualities 
of matter have an evident dependence on each other; and 
those of mind are, in like manner, necessarily connected. 
We cannot conceive how the qualities of matter could be 
separated ; or how one quality of mind could exist with¬ 
out another. But the qualities of matter have no natu¬ 
ral or necessary connection with those of mind, more than 
those of mind have any necessary connection with those of 
matter. All the qualities of each may, however, be reduced 
to one of its own species. Those of matter may be said to 
consist merely in different modes of extension; and those of 
mind, in different modifications of thinking. 

4 Pope seems, however, of the common opinion. 

“ Thus, in the soul, while memory prevails. 

The solid power of understanding fails ; 

Where beams of warm imagination play. 

The memory’s soft figures melt away.” 

So far, indeed, as the effects of habit, to be afterwards ex¬ 
plained, extend, he is right; but originally the mind possesses 
all faculties in the same degree. 


i 


184 


be discriminated by degrees of excellence of 
thinking alone, in whatever manner; not by 
the distinctions of fancy and judgment, for 
such are only the distinctions of the appro¬ 
priation of the same powers. 

As all subjects are the same to the mind, 
unless they differ in extent or complexity, a 
man of judgment must excel in every thing 
in proportion to his judgment. To say that 
a poet is not made, but born, is only to say 
that greatness of mind cannot be acquired 
by education, but must be the gift of nature ; 
which applies to poets no more than to per¬ 
sons of other professions. It is absurd to 
endeavour to separate genius from wisdom. 
Is not every effort of imagination perfect as 
it is wise, and excellent as it is judicious? 
Does not every picture of fancy depend upon 
the propriety of the choice and disposition 
of the materials ? and are not the most fan¬ 
ciful combinations the result of that compre¬ 
hension which enables a person to associate 
remote objects? 

Even those who believe that genius con- 



185 


sists in imagination, still think the addition 
of a certain portion of judgment necessary 
to its perfection. A vigorous imagination 
under a just judgment is, in one word, a 
good understanding. Every thing is per¬ 
formed by the power of thought. Fancy is 
but a particular use of judgment, and an ir¬ 
regular mode of reasoning. 4 

That two different parts of one and the 
same principle appear contrary, often arises 
from the want of that latitude of mind which 
is necessary to unite them. 5 To say that 
genius is an incomprehensible quality of the 

N 

4 “ Oft in her” (Reason's) “ absence, mimic Fancy wakes 

To imitate her; but misjoining shapes. 

Wild work produces oft——- 

5 On the saying of Dr. Johnson, “ The supposition of one 
man having more imagination, another more judgment, is not 
true. It is only one man has more mind than another—Sir, 
the man who has vigour may walk to the east as well as to 
the west, if he happens to turn his head that way/' a Re¬ 
viewer has this remark :—“ Had Dr. Johnson never said any 
thing better or wiser than the above, we should have had no 
hesitation to set him down as the most consummate of all 


blockheads/* 



186 


mind, different from perfection of under¬ 
standing, is the common refuge of those 
who are incapable of definition and analysis, 
and who wish to hide deficiency of capacity 
in impenetrable mystery. But the progress 
by which nature accomplishes all her ends 
is distinctly marked. It requires only a 
little pains in tracing the operations of the 
mind, to discover, that comprehension is the 
origin of both reasoning and invention; that 
energy of intellect is the source of all lite¬ 
rary excellence, the centre from which every 
beauty emanates. It requires only exami¬ 
nation to perceive that, wherever the mind 
is employed, judgment and perfection are 
one; that good sense and good writing are 
the same; that sublimity and wisdom are 
always united ; and that the most admired 
passages of Shakespeare would not be poeti¬ 
cally beautiful, if they were not philosophi¬ 
cally excellent. 

We must, therefore, consider the inspira¬ 
tion of a poet, so long talked of by the world, 
merely as a figurative expression, or a term 


187 

of enthusiastic admiration, similar to that 
which a person addresses to his mistress, 
when he exalts her above the rest of the 
species, with the fallacy of which he who 
makes use of it is well acquainted ; for poe¬ 
try is, certainly, as far mechanical, or as 
much dependant on the ordinary operations 
of the mind, as any other science/ 

Judgment consists both in separating and 
uniting qualities ; fancy apparently in com¬ 
bining only. But surely the latter cannot 
be produced without comparison, more than 
the former. Instead of proceeding from a 
particular faculty, it is not a separate opera¬ 
tion of the mind. To make choice of the 
ingredients of fancy, and pick out from na¬ 
ture the objects of description, does not seem 
different from that operation by which we 
draw from facts the deductions of reason. In 
N 2 


6 This is, perhaps, the reason why Dr. Johnson asserted, 
that there is as much pleasure in writing a page of £ Dic¬ 
tionary as one of poetry j meaning, no doubt, that labour is 
necessary to both, and that labour can never be pleasant. 


188 


what also consists the peculiarity of that 
most irregular of all species of writing—lyric 
poetry, if it be not in leaving incomplete the 
chain of reasoning, and passing from one 
sentiment to another, dropping intermediate 
ideas ? 

Every production of fancy—whether in¬ 
vention of plan, or variety and elegance of 
execution, is the result of the same precision 
of thought and acuteness of distinction, as the 
most abstracted works of judgment. They, 
therefore, both engage the mind in discri¬ 
mination, and employ the same faculties in 
the same manner. 

He who possesses great powers, and exer¬ 
cises them in vigilant observation and dili¬ 
gent remark, understands fully the nature of 
things, is sensible what produces every effect 
upon the passions of mankind, perceives 
clearly the operations of the human mind 
in every involution of interest, and knows 
distinctly in what literary perfection con¬ 
sists. As, again, the memory is always pro¬ 
portioned to the judgment, his mind must 


189 


form a store of maxims and images, from 
which he can chuse either an ethic or a pic¬ 
ture, and produce an effect in the form of 
judgment or imagination, as he desires.’ 

N 3 

7 Watts and Beattie both wrote poetry and metaphysics; 
the former excelling in metaphysics, and the latter in poetry. 
But Chapters XI. and XIX. will explain why better instances 
are not to be found. 


CHAPTER XVI 


FANCY BUT AN INFERIOR DEGREE OF JUDGMENT, 
AND SUBSERVIENT TO A HIGHER. 

That a person succeeds in works of ima¬ 
gination to a greater degree than in those of 
judgment, may be accounted for by saying 
that he has studied the former more than 
the latter. But still another remark occurs. 
Although both are the same to the mind, it 
is, however, only in proportion as they en¬ 
gage it. As works of imagination require a 
less portion of exertion, so they discover less 
of the excellence of the mind than those of 
judgment. 8 

8 The author of the “ Tale of a Tub,” indeed, says, that 
judgment is inferior to fancy, which last he calls genius; be¬ 
cause genius forms the general plan, and prudence has then 
only to conduct the execution of it. In this remark, besides 


191 


Imagination and judgment are, indeed, 
different, as far as degree can make them; 
and it is apparent, that, although the supe¬ 
rior portion of intellect includes the inferior, 
the inferior does not include the superior. 
A mind formed for embracing extensive 
subjects, and calculated for abstract discus¬ 
sion, may descend to those which are fanci¬ 
ful, diffuse, and superficial. But there is no 
possibility, that capacity, which is adapted 
only to these inferior subjects, will ever rise 
above itself; become more comprehensive 
and acute than nature made it; or be quali¬ 
fied for those employments which exceed its 
powers. Yet men are always inclined to 
value every production as it is useful and 
N 4 

taking different degrees of the same quality for distinct things, 
and placing the inferior degree above the superior, he con- 
fouw&s judgment xv'rth prudence. Judgment and prudence are 
as entirely different as any two things can be. Judgment 
depends upon the excellence of the mind ; but prudence, on 
the strength or weakness of the passions; for it is a lament¬ 
able fact, that those who possess the best understandings are 
not always the most prudent 


192 


agreeable, rather than as it is difficult; and 
to consider more the tendency which it has 
to flatter their passions, than its relation to 
the understanding. Hence they are led into 
delusions which are too agreeable to be rea¬ 
dily forsaken, and which have at last become 
so venerable, by antiquity, as nearly to pro¬ 
hibit examination. 

But what is generally termed superior ge¬ 
nius, is as far inferior to a sound understand¬ 
ing, as objects are to ideas, and as passions 
are to remarks made on them. Judgment 
penetrates into things, to discover their na¬ 
ture, their excellencies, and defects; but 
fancy only touches the surface of them, to 
point out beauties, or qualities which dis¬ 
gust ; and the one may be compared to 
strength, and the other to activity. 

1 hat mind which, by the power of de¬ 
scription, the blaze of rhetoric, or the bewil¬ 
dering images of declamation, amuses the 
passions, and misleads the understanding, is 
as far inferior to one which evinces judgment 
by discrimination, as that which judgment is 


193 


employed upon is to judgment itself. By 
description, we are supplied only with the 
data of thinking; reasoning still remains to 
be made upon the facts or objects which 
fancy presents to us. 

The pictures of imagination are only ab¬ 
stracts of the world, for the philosopher and 
moralist to exercise their reflection, and 
make their remarks upon, and from which 
to deduce the principles which govern man¬ 
kind. Fancy, like a book of travels, saves 
them merely the trouble of making journies 
and traversing nature. 

Fancy sometimes acts merely as a mirror 
to nature, representing it in all its original 
disorder; sometimes it exaggerates or dimi¬ 
nishes its features; and at other times it 
adds to its variety, by uniting things never 
before united. But however new the com¬ 
binations, they never lead to simplification 
or generalization. As the beauty and ex¬ 
cellence of every work of imagination con¬ 
sist in fidelity of painting; judgment, to 
remove the original confusion of those things 


194 


from which fancy is taken, has still the la-, 
hour of separating qualities, and of forming 
facts into principles . 9 Homer merely fur¬ 
nished the materials from which Aristotle 
drew his Poetics. 

That diffusive irregularity to which the 
world has agreed to give the first place in 
genius, forms a contradiction to regular ex¬ 
cellence, and derives its pre-eminence from 
its imperfection. As it is the more confused 
and wandering, the more it seems to excel. 
The superior lustre of the beauties which it 
contains, arises solely from their inconsist¬ 
ency with method and regularity . 1 Any ex- 

9 “ — — -In the soul 

Are many lesser faculties, that serve. 

Reason as chief; among these, fancy next 
Her office holds; of all external things. 

Which the five watchful senses represent. 

She forms imaginations, aery shapes. 

Which reason joining or disjoining, frames 
All what we affirm, or what deny, and call 
Our knowledge or opinion- 

1 Dr. Beattie says,—“ Rousseau is a great philosophical 
genius, but wild, irregular, and self-contradictory ” But what 




195 


cellence strikes us with more force, the more 
abruptly it breaks forth upon us, or the more 
suddenly it presents itself to view. The 
more, likewise, the beauties of any work of 
literature are confused and scattered, the 
greater their number will appear. For, 
when we see a few, we think there are more; 
and a great many, without order, like the 
stars which fill the heavens, seem innumer¬ 
able. But as arrangement is the sole diffi¬ 
culty to the mind, irregular beauty is as far 
inferior to true superior genius, as materials 
are to workmanship, or execution is to de¬ 
sign. 

Nothing, in reality, but the blind venera¬ 
tion of what is unknown, and reluctance to 
dissipate that ignorance which is so conge- 

kind of philosophy or genius is that which is wild, irregular, 
and contradictory ! Irregularity arises merely from want of 
comprehension, and consequently from want of genius. The 
more distinct our ideas are, the nearer they approach perfec¬ 
tion. What is all capacity but clear ideas ? What more can 
we do for any subject than to put it in a clear light? The 
greatest ability is to see things aright! 


196 

nial to the natural superstition of the human 
mind, could induce a preference of associa¬ 
tion founded on superficial resemblance, to 
chastised order and extended connection. 
At the same time, it is apparent, that the 
degree of capacity which is necessary to 
what is great, is repugnant to that which is 
pleasant. 

A person of a strong mind discovers his 
abilities rather in pointed sayings, and com¬ 
prehensive axioms, than in flowing elo¬ 
quence and expanded enumeration; while 
another of inferior powers mingles facts with 
arguments, and pursues his way, through 
the course of events, by an instinct which is 
pleasant, because natural. Sterne possessed 
that lesser excellence and smaller degree of 
intellect—commonly called genius, if ever 
man did; for, in him, the enthusiastic ad¬ 
mirers of irregularity will find that confusion 
which they desire, joined with considerable 
judgment, fancy, however, predominating. 
How many general principles and maxims 


197 

does he give with accuracy ! But how much 
more excellent is he in describing and tra¬ 
cing a train of the most minute circum¬ 
stances, and following nature in her various 
windings, when conducting events and dis¬ 
playing the emotions of the heart. But, in 
the pathetic, Sterne is excelled by no writer, 
ancient or modern. Dr. Johnson, again, in 
sentiment, is awkward; in narration, brief 
and dry ; and if he were to be judged of by 
his art in telling a story, must be pronounced 
a man of no ability.* When he attempts 
enumeration, he seems to do a thing foreign 
to his nature; and, although its excellence 
must be admitted, yet his particulars have 
always a general cast, and, in reality, in- 

2 Longinus gives much the same description of Demos¬ 
thenes.—“ Demosthenes,” says he, “ has been unsuccessful 
in representing the humours and characters of men. He was 
a stranger to diffusive eloquence; awkward in his address, 
void of all pomp and show in his language ; where his subject 
compels him to be merry or facetious, he makes people laugh, 
but it is at himself; and the more he endeavours at raillery, 
the more distant he is from it.” 


198 


dude many subordinate. In short, he pos¬ 
sessed so much judgment as to leave no room 
in his mind for what is called genius, and 
was so much abstracted in reasoning as to 
be incapable of attending to objects alone. 
Dr. Hawkesworth imitated him, and it is 
obvious that he excelled him in fancy, be¬ 
cause he was inferior to him in judgment . 3 
It is equally apparent that it was because 
Dr. Johnson was so much superior to Addi¬ 
son, and because his understanding was too 
correct to admit fancy or irregular thinking, 
that he could not write in his light and beau¬ 
tiful manner, or in those glowing colours 
which are pleasant by being near the surface 
of things. 

The powers of the mind are so much the 
same, and its qualities so nearly allied, that 
a person cannot possess judgment without a 
portion of what is called genius, nor can he 
possess fancy without some degree of judg- 

3 The author of Lexiphanes says, “ Dr. Hawkesworth is 
far superior, in fancy, to Dr. Johnson/* 


199 


ment, because they are only more or less of 
the same thing. Were the mind, indeed, 
capable of descending, or of suspending its 
powers of discrimination, at pleasure, a per¬ 
son would possess imagination always in 
proportion to his judgment. But as imagi¬ 
nation is only a more imperfect species of 
judgment, or vague manner of combination, 
the position must be reversed. It may, 
therefore, be said, that a person possesses the 
former as he wants the latter; that is, the 
mind is confused as it is narrow, fanciful as it 
is irregular, and wandering as it is deficient 
in general ideas. 

Those who cannot think correctly, must 
think irregularly. When a person’s mental 
powers are not so great as to deserve the ap¬ 
pellation of judgment, they must necessarily 
acquire a title to that of fancy or imagina¬ 
tion. Talent is always light and airy as it 
is superficial, and mysterious as it is obscure 
and undefined. Yet, we must not hastily 
conclude, that whatever is not of remote 
deduction, or reduced to direct method, is 


200 

devoid of merit. Such is the nature of the 
intellect, that it is confined to no particular 
mode of exertion. Genius can assume any 
shape; and its degree may, though less ac¬ 
curately in some cases than in others, be 
known on every subject and in every ope¬ 
ration. 

At first view, history discovers little abili¬ 
ty. Events are copiously supplied by na¬ 
ture, and the historian’s business seems to be 
merely to narrate them. But are not mate¬ 
rials furnished to every performance ? Has 
not a historian to distinguish truth from 
fable, and that which is important from that 
which is uninteresting ? Has he not, in 
short, to weave facts into a consistent de¬ 
sign ? and what more appears in any intel¬ 
lectual performance ? History may, indeed, 
be a mere narration, without discrimination, 
but it may likewise rise to considerable dig¬ 
nity. That period of Hume, beginning with 
the reign of Charles I. and ending with the 
death of Cromwell, is without parallel in the 
annals of the world. In it, we view all modes 


201 


of government, a mild monarchy, a republic, 
a despotism ; together with every species of 
religion. It may truly be called “ philoso¬ 
phy teaching by experience,” and is every 
way worthy of the author of the Essays. 

An extensive epic-poem , in some degree, 
resembles an extensive moral or physical 
system; and, although a fanciful produc¬ 
tion, may rank with a philosophical. To 
invent and discover, are the same. We per¬ 
ceive an expansion of intellect in the works 
of Homer and Milton, equal to that which 
appears in those of Newton or Locke; and 
cannot hesitate to rank the former with the 
latter. It is true, that greatness of mind is 
never shown but by arrangement, or some¬ 
thing which resembles it. But comprehen¬ 
sion may be discovered by the plan of a work 
of entertainment no less than by a system of 
philosophy ; and, perhaps, every degree of 
talent may be displayed by the former as 
well as by the latter . 4 A moderate portion 
o 

4 If we represent fancy as inferior to judgment, we exhi- 


202 


of genius is likewise capable of being shown 
by the execution of both ; and judicious dis¬ 
position of incident, and propriety of cha¬ 
racter, may be allowed to rank with wise 
remarks, and pertinent reflections. In poe¬ 
try, however, and some other works of en¬ 
tertainment, execution is peculiarly difficult. 
The impassioned language of tragedy , as well 
as the fire of lyric poetry, requires no mean 
powers. The natural painting of manners, 
and delicate raillery of comedy , although 
connected with habit, also bear a corres¬ 
pondence with a considerable portion of in¬ 
tellect. But, unless any mental operation 
exhibit both extensive and novel associa¬ 
tion, it indicates no superior talents; as 
there are few persons who cannot decide 
correctly within a narrow circle, or distin¬ 
guish between right and wrong where there 
is no great intricacy. 

There can, however, hardly be named, a 
person who excels in execution and delinea- 

bit only a less degree of the same thing; and if we represent 
it as equal, we, in fact, make them one. 


203 


tion remarkably deficient in method. Ovid, 
Ariosto, Spenser, all discover system and 
connection; the latter, indeed, of the most 
elaborate, if not the most original, kind. 
Yet genius does not consist in numerous 
ideas, however beautiful, inaccurately com¬ 
bined. 

There are, indeed, some who display that 
extent of mind in execution, which others do 
in design. Butler is an author universally 
admired; yet nothing could be more re¬ 
markably imperfect than the fable of his 
Hudibras. Besides being an imitation, it is 
defective in unity; and, viewing it with re¬ 
lation to the chief end of all works of fancy, 
capable of exciting very little interest. We 
must, therefore, look for his genius in those 
numerous scattered passages of wit and wis¬ 
dom, which could have flowed only from 
the most expanded contemplation, and for 
which the substance of the poem seems to 
have served onlv as a vehicle. Even Shake¬ 
speare, in the outlines and conduct of his 
dramas, does not, in general, exhibit any 
o 2 


204 


degree of excellence, of which inferior ge¬ 
nius is incapable; perhaps because his sub¬ 
jects are oftener adopted than invented, and 
do not belong so much to fiction as to fact. 
For a complete instance of inconsistency 
and want of method, we need go no farther 
than the tragedy of Hamlet. Shakespeare, 
as he seldom produces a complete design, or 
excites any interest which is not interrupted, 
does not, perhaps, possess, in a high degree, 
the power of moving the passions. His chief 
merit seems to consist in separate pictures, 
and exquisite pieces of detached poetry. 
However deficient he may be in regularity, 
he never fails to discover general knowledge, 
and a deep insight into human nature. It 
is possible to describe a species under the 
guise of an individual, and to reduce a 
science to the simplicity of a single expres¬ 
sion. On every subject, only one very ap¬ 
propriate reflection can be made, and that 
he never fails to produce. Those individual 
beauties, so frequent in his works, are to be 
considered more as general than particular 


205 


ideas. In them, we perceive the principles 
of universal excellence, and talents which 
might have been varied to every attain¬ 
ment. 

It is, therefore, only those works of fancy, 
in which particulars are delineated, or facts 
narrated, without method, and which show 
neither plan in the whole, nor general views 
in the parts, which are to be considered as 
displaying no portion of the higher rank of 
genius, or superior degree of judgment. To 
assemble facts, without regularity, in poems 
and novels , as they are offered by the world, 
requires no other art than that of copying 
them accurately; and, as all operations of 
the mind are valuable only as they are cor¬ 
rect, fancy excels merely as it resembles 
judgment, or evinces the possession of it. 


o 3 


CHAPTER XVII. 


DIFFERENCE OF SUBJECT CREATES DIFFERENCE OF 
SUCCESS, AND ENABLES ONE MIND TO EXCEL 
ANOTHER. 


There is nothing which either exalts or 
degrades genius more than the manner of its 
employment; and, so far, literary merit is ca¬ 
sual. That this has proved a fruitful source 
of applause and censure to men of talents, is 
evident, from the inequality of the same per¬ 
son’s productions; and hence it is incontesti- 
bly proved, that a person may stumble on 
such a thing as a happy subject, or that coin¬ 
cidence of circumstances with his own exer¬ 
tions which enables him to surpass others, 
and even to excel himself. What can abi¬ 
lity accomplish without favourable circurn- 


207 

stances! and how far do favourable circum¬ 
stances supply the place of ability ! 

What opportunity is in action, subject is. 
in literature. A rich subject communicates 
its treasures to the mind, stimulates effort, 
and calls forth all its perfections; while a 
dull subject extinguishes animation, renders 
negative every talent, and reduces the intel¬ 
lect to the level of its own barrenness. 

The mind can represent objects only as 
they are presented to it. It possesses, in¬ 
deed, the power of selection ; but as selection 
consists merely in rejecting what is bad, the 
highest effort of genius can never go beyond 
a just representation of any subject. One 
author may succeed where another has fail¬ 
ed ; but still the beauties of the most cele¬ 
brated are to be found in his subject. It is 
evident, therefore, that literary excellence 
is, in no small degree, at the mercy of cir¬ 
cumstances; and that the concurrence of 
fortune is, in some measure, necessary to the 
production of heroes in the Republic of Let¬ 
ters, as well as in politics. 

/ o 4 




208 


A certain boldness or originality , more the 
produce of accident than of design, will be 
found the chief merit of every work which 
has, to any great degree, engaged the atten¬ 
tion of mankind. 

Of the originality of the ancients, it is 
difficult to judge. They enjoyed the first 
harvest, and nothing remains to the moderns 
but to glean what is left. Yet, in this re¬ 
spect, advantages are apparently equal: If 
the moderns are deprived of priority, the 
ancients were without models, and the con¬ 
centrated wisdom of mankind. 

Homer, as the first of epic poets, inde¬ 
pendently of the excellence of his execution, 
may claim a perfect originality; although 
it has been suggested that Homer may be 
original only because all prior authors are 
lost. As most sciences are the work of 
many, it seems remarkable that one man, 
without an example of any kind, should 
have brought a particular species of writing 
so near perfection, that no improvement has 
been made since his time. 


209 


In writing epic poems after Homer, un¬ 
less they deviate as far from his plan as the 
Dunciad, or the Rape of the Lock, little 
other merit is to be discovered than that of 
increasing the multitude of books. To these, 
the Iliad seems to have furnished merely a 
hint or suggestion. An imitation may be 
so amplified, and connected with new cir¬ 
cumstances, as to exceed the original; for 
instance, the Dunciad, so far as it is founded 
on Macflecnoe. But the iEneid, Pharsalia, 
and Jerusalem Delivered, add little to the 
variety of our ideas. The second is, in fact, 
nothing more than a history in verse, and 
all three are valued merely for the skill dis¬ 
played in their execution. That judgment 
of the Italians, therefore, which prefers Ari¬ 
osto to Tasso, seems just. Both depend for 
reputation on execution, and the execution 
of the former, though not original, has been 
less frequently copied, and is more natural 
than that of the latter. 

Among the moderns, Cervantes, Swift, 
and Bunyan, are the authors most distin- 


210 


guished for originality. The Pilgrim’s Pro- 
gress is, indeed, one of those subjects which 
may be said to have been made; and is a 
remarkable work of its kind. Yet the ori¬ 
ginality is not so great as it seems. One 
allegory, however different the subject, is 
but an imitation of another. 

An absolute or perfect originality is not, 
however, necessary to excellence. There is, 
indeed, hardly such a thing; and, if there 
were, it would be more an evidence of good 
fortune than of genius. Those works which 
have the best claim to it, are founded upon 
some hint which is carried farther by the 
succeeding author than by his predecessor. 
But, in general, each collects from many, 
and adds a little of his own. Not only are 
there fixed rules of language, a limited num¬ 
ber of figures, and a common stock of 
images; but it is impossible to search far 
without discovering a set of tales and inci¬ 
dents which one person receives from ano¬ 
ther by hereditary succession. No author 
would seem more original than Ariosto, were 


211 

it not known how much he derived from 
Boyardo, the romance writers, and the an¬ 
cient classics. Swift, Rabelais, and the au¬ 
thors of the Arabian Nights* Entertainments, 
are also much indebted to their predeces¬ 
sors. 

It is sufficient that a subject, to be bold 
and striking, be founded on some general 
principle of nature. Thus, the two plays of 
Shakespeare which approach nearest to per¬ 
fection, Othello and Macbeth, have, for their 
subjects, each a single passion of human 
nature; the first, that of jealousy, the se¬ 
cond, ambition. Hence, the parts of each of 
these plays tend, as it were, to a common 
centre; and hence, combined with the ge¬ 
nius of Shakespeare, perhaps, arises all their 
sublimity. 

On a small scale, in subject, no one excels 
Pope. His subjects are, for the most part, 
neither found nor invented. They are cho¬ 
sen ; but are always of a general nature, and 
tend to depict some strong feature of things. 

However easily it may seem made, no- 


212 


thing is so rare as a good selection. Pope, 
in fact, shows more of that force of mind 
which grasps general ideas, or is, in short, a 
greater genius, than the favourite poet of 
the Italians. Had the latter, instead of col¬ 
lecting all the stories which time has fur¬ 
nished, selected only those which are excel¬ 
lent, he would, with his style and manner, 
have produced a work which the world 
could not equal. Where, therefore, he has 
failed, Pope has succeeded. The materials 
of every performance, excepting in the ear¬ 
liest ages, have been supplied more by read¬ 
ing than by nature. Books are chiefly made 
from books; and in what is all genius shown, 
if it be not in selection ? 

But of the power of subject, there is not 
a more remarkable instance than Paradise 
Lost. Milton, from having raised so stu¬ 
pendous a fabric from such scanty materials, 
has an undeniable claim to the merit of 
invention. Paradise Lost seems, indeed, a 
kind of creation; when reading it, we feel 
as if transported to a new world. Such a 


213 


subject, like a valuable diamond, is seldom 
to be met with; but, when found, makes a 
person’s fortune. 

Notwithstanding the priority of the Iliad 
as an epic poem, it seems, as a work of lite¬ 
rature, to yield, in originality as well as 
dignity, to Paradise Lost. 

The real, the unlaboured, and simple sub¬ 
limity, resulting from the subject alone of 
Paradise Lost, gives to the Iliad an artificial 
appearance, and renders the genius of Ho¬ 
mer puerile and nugatory. The superior 
dignity and excellence of this poem do not, 
however, form a greater contrast with the 
works of any other poet than with those of 
the author himself. Paradise Regained is 
an instance to prove that the greatest genius 
cannot create a subject to itself, nor exercise 
its abilities independently of circumstances; 
and that Milton could not produce any thing 
equally excellent with Paradise Lost, and, 
at the same time, different. 

It is, perhaps, difficult to determine whe¬ 
ther the preference, with regard to ability. 


214 

belongs to the author of the Iliad, or to that 
of Paradise Lost. 

The great harmony in the disposition of 
parts and introduction of incident, the varie¬ 
ty of character, which the Iliad displays; 
the propriety of its sentiments ; its dignity 
and pathos, 5 6 —evince considerable extent of 
mind ; and in faithful delineation of nature, 
animation of description, and beauty of si¬ 
mile, Homer stands unrivalled. But the 
Iliad is entirely destitute of that science and 
learning* which appear in Paradise Lost, 
and which, while they seem to have been 
the produce of a greater mind than that of 
the author of the Iliad, create a prejudice 
against its minor efforts, by stiffening de¬ 
scription and banishing ornament. 

In the general conduct of his work, Ho- 

5 We forbear to mention Homer’s sublimity. “ After 
Milton, Homer may be allowed to be majestic, but can 
hardly be admitted to be great. Before the greatness dis¬ 
played in Milton’s poem, all other greatness shrinks away.’* 

6 These are certainly poetical blemishes, but we speak 
only with regard to ability. 


215 


mer has little of which he can boast. The 
wrath of Achilles is one of those trifling 
causes, which sometimes, by a remarkable 
concurrence of circumstances, produce great 
events; his combats are wretched, his par¬ 
tiality disgusting, and the exploits of his 
heroes improbable ; the wisdom of Ulysses 
is puerile, and his Deities are actuated by 
the worst of human passions. 

In the Iliad, every thing is calculated for 
embellishment ; every beauty superficial, 
every reflection obvious. No doubt, a con¬ 
siderable knowledge of men and manners 
appears in this poem ; but it appears chiefly 
by implication. It is, therefore, to be con¬ 
sidered as, in a great measure, descriptive; 7 
and excepting narration , description is the 
meanest of literary employments. But if a 
person, when engaged in description, disco¬ 
ver an extraordinary degree of strength of 
painting, and richness of colouring, he may, 
perhaps, be allowed to rank among those 
who have displayed their talents in the more 

7 Of manners and action, for the most part, however. 


216 


unequivocal mode of reasoning. As all 
plans are not great, so neither is all execu¬ 
tion mean ; as there is a difference, so there 
may be various degrees of excellence, in 
both. Every person may be capable of 
composing metaphors and chusing similes; 
but the metaphors of one will be stronger, 
and the similes better, than those of ano¬ 
ther. 

Homer excels in the particular; Milton 
in the general. The latter has, indeed, some 
faults, although few, of a general nature, 
such as the allegory of sin and death, and 
the Paradise of Fools, besides one arising 
\ from his subject—the contradiction between 
spirit and matter. But, on the whole, it 
may be said—that the Iliad exhibits more 
of that portion of mind called imagination, 
and less of that denominated judgment, than 
Paradise Lost; that while the former takes 
the greatest hold of the passions, the latter 
is best calculated to exercise the understand¬ 
ing ; that while the one displays most beau¬ 
ty, the other shows most sublimity; while 


217 


that excites our love, this commands our 
admiration. 

Part, however, of Homer’s inferiority un¬ 
doubtedly arises from his subject; for what 
Milton has gained by subject, Homer has 
lost. Homer, to encrease the dignity of his 
heroes, is obliged to clothe them with quali¬ 
ties so far superior to human nature, that the 
idea of men is lost under them, and nothing 
remains but bombastical epithets or unna¬ 
tural attributes, which we find it impossible 
to apply to human beings. When Hector 
and Ajax are made to hurl rocks against each 
other, the mind is shocked at the absurdity 
of the scene, and turns away with disgust, 
because it perceives human nature no longer. 
By exalting them so far above their original 
condition, he has changed their nature, and 
deprived us of all interest which we could 
take in their concerns as fellow creatures. 
As what is natural only can be good, to 
such extensions of the powers of mankind, 
may be applied the words of Macbeth, which 
P 


218 

show perfectly the boundaries of the sub¬ 
lime :— 

" I dare do all that may become a man. 

Who dares do more, is none.” 

When greatness and probability are unit¬ 
ed, or when sublimity can be preserved 
without the violation of nature, as the mind 
can most easily appropriate that which is 
nearest to our own condition, as well as ad¬ 
mire that which is farthest raised above it, 
we receive the highest pleasure. That which 
is too nearly on a level with ourselves, can 
create no idea of sublimity; and that which 
is too far raised above us, no sympathy. 
Whatever, therefore, is interesting, must be 
neither too high nor too low, but form a 
medium between extremities. 

There are some qualities which can never 
be united, and which are always repugnant. 
When found in the same object, they uni¬ 
formly produce contrast, inconsistency, and 
unnatural ideas. The greatest character is 
the nearest to perfection of a species. While 


219 


the personages of Milton are kept within 
their own province, and submit to the laws 
of probability and propriety, neither the 
Deities of Homer appear as Gods, nor his 
human characters as men. The former pos¬ 
sess many of the weaknesses of mankind, and 
the latter many divine qualities. His Dei¬ 
ties sometimes govern his human characters, 
and his human characters are sometimes 
superior in power to his Deities. The rea¬ 
son of all this is, that Homer's subject is 
human affairs exaggerated; Milton’s,divine, 
drawn in their real colours; and that the 
heroes of the former are chiefly terrestrial, 
those of the latter celestial. The characters 
of Homer are artificially, those of Milton 
naturally, great. While the former is com¬ 
pelled to exalt men to Gods, and to degrade 
Gods to men, the latter is required only to 
draw both as they are. Our sympathy, in 
the one case, is checked by inconsistency; 
in the other, aided by propriety. 

Milton’s subject combines the probable 
with the great. It is prior to nature, extends 
p 2 


220 


beyond it, or is a new nature, and does not 
require conformity to the present state of 
the creation. His heroes are not unnatural; 
but only superior to nature. They are more 
than men, and can bear qualities which hu¬ 
man nature would sink under. 

Milton’s subject is great, because extraor¬ 
dinary ; and interesting, by being philoso¬ 
phically correct, and founded on the nature 
of things. There is nothing contrary to the 
assent of judgment, or inconsistent with 
chaste imagination, that, in the war of 
spirits, 

, . “ -The starry cope 

Of Heav’n, perhaps, or all the elements 
At least had gone to wreck- — 

nor is there any exaggeration in the idea 
that those who are superior to the laws of 
nature could change them. But as the ac¬ 
tions of Gods are unsuitable to men, that 
which is great and grand in Milton’s heroes, 
by being agreeable to truth or probability, 
would, from the contrary reason, be a ridi¬ 
culous appendage of any human being. To 




221 


ascribe the actions of Gods to men, or those 
of men to Gods, is to exalt human charac¬ 
ters above, and to degrade divine below, 
their real condition, to produce incongruity 
and absurdity. 

Milton is an abstruse poet, and his is, per¬ 
haps, the only abstruse subject compatible 
with fancy, or adapted to poetry . 8 The 
origin of nature, the formation and destruc¬ 
tion of worlds, the contention of elements, 
and, in short, “ the revolutions of heaven 
and earth,” require only to be put into 
words to be great and grand. In com¬ 
parison with these the affairs of men are 
trifling, and the combats of Homer’s heroes 
“ as unimportant as the skirmishes of the 
p 3 

8 Most of our philosophical poems, the prevalence of which 
at present shows that, in refined society, correctness of think¬ 
ing takes place of enthusiastic imagination, are incongruous 
monsters, which attempt to join labour with amusement. 
When amusement can be blended with instruction, it is very 
well; but, in that case, labour must be absent, for labour can 
never amuse. Of all philosophical poets, Akenside is, per¬ 
haps, the best. 


222 

birds of the air.” Instead of Milton’s subli¬ 
mity requiring effort, it seems impossible to 
have written on such subjects without it. 

“ The dark unbottom’d infinite abyss” 

** . . ..The void profound 

Of unessential night-- ■■■■—” 

“ -Black it stood as night. 

Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell” 

“ -Hell trembled as he strode” 

“ -Death 

Grinn’d horrible, a ghastly smile” 

are ideas and expressions, which appear to 
be great without effort, and are, perhaps, 
sublime without intention. It is impossible 
to conceive another subject, equal, in natural 
grandeur and true sublimity, to Paradise 
Lost. In Paradise Lost, every thing is so 
agreeable to probability, that it forms, per¬ 
haps, the best philosophical system of the 
origin of nature ; and so new as to be differ¬ 
ent from the present state of things. 

With regard to this poem, the subject 
may be considered as containing half the 
merit of the performance. As foreign causes, 
therefore, may assist a person in the accom- 







223 


plishment of his purposes, as well as coun¬ 
teract his success, we ought no more to add 
their influence to his capacity in the one 
case, than to deduct it in the other. 

So much, however, depends upon occa¬ 
sion and exertion, that nothing can be more 
difficult than to distinguish that portion of 
excellence which belongs to nature, from 
that which belongs to accident. There are 
certainly many persons capable of forming 
extensive arrangements, and treating gene* 
ral subjects, who have never made the at¬ 
tempt. The abilities of some may, no doubt* 
be ascertained, by acuteness displayed in 
particular exertions, but the conclusion can 
never be depended on. It is difficult to say 
what those powers which are exerted on a 
confined scale would have been, had they 
been exerted on an extensive. From the 
clearness of Pope’s ideas, the conciseness, 
the elegance, and energy of his language, 
talents of the first rank are to be inferred; 
but still, had he never written the “ Rape of 
the Lock,” their extent would have been 
P 4 


224 


only matter of conjecture. After this poem, 
which yields to the Iliad, perhaps, more in 
the magnitude, than in the variety and 
beauty, of its parts, it may bethought mere¬ 
ly a refinement on words to say that Pope 
is not a poet. If, however, we consider the 
general characteristic of his poetry, the Rape 
of the Lock will be found an exception. 
The poetry of Pope i's undoubtedly plea¬ 
sant; but it pleases more by being reason¬ 
able than fanciful. There is, too, a play of 
fancy in it, but it is within narrow limits. 
The substance is always of a general nature ; 
the fancy merely ornamental. 

The Rape of the Lock shows the strength 
of those powers which were capable of such 
versatility, of passing from extremes so great 
and excelling in departments so very differ¬ 
ent. But, at the same time, it is an instance 
to prove that fancy and judgment are one 
and the same. 

Pope seems to have been capable of every 
thing. He is unquestionably the second of 
British poets; and why not the first ? Mere- 


225 


ly because he was less fortunate than Milton 
in opportunity, and more confined in the 
subject on which he exerted his talents. 

Hence literary greatness is, in some de¬ 
gree, reduced to the level of all other great¬ 
ness ; depending on the concurrence of many 
circumstances; but with this difference, that, 
when a person is distinguished in literature, 
the powers of his mind are undoubted, while 
distinction in active pursuits leaves the ques¬ 
tion of intellectual capacity undecided. The 
difficulty in literature, is not with regard to 
the talents displayed, but with regard to 
those which have never been exerted. We 
may rely upon the greatness of the former; 
but cannot know how many, among man¬ 
kind, may possess equal. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


CORPOREAL TALENTS TO BE DISTINGUISHED FROM 
MENTAL. 

Nothing can be more absurd than the 
notion that a person is born with a genius 
for a particular subject, fitted to that subject 
and to no other; and that every difference 
ofliterary labour requires, not more or less, 
but a different species of mind. 

Of subject, considered with regard to ge¬ 
nius, the only difference seems to be between 
that which requires the application of the 
mind, and that which requires the applica¬ 
tion of the body; and of talents, between 
corporeal and mental. Specific inequality 
and opposition of talent, in the same person, 
appears, setting aside habit, merely contra¬ 
diction of body and mind. 

In one profession, however, the essential 


227 

requisites are, no doubt, mental; and can¬ 
not, therefore, be ranked among the pecu¬ 
liarities of corporeal conformation. But to 
these intellectual powers, it is so indispensi- 
bly necessary to unite certain constitutional 
qualities, that the former are entirely useless 
without the latter. For the purpose of ex¬ 
celling in public speaking , to good sense and 
the habit of facility and elegance of expres¬ 
sion, must be added that strength of nerve 
and coolness of temper which gives a person 
the full possession of his faculties, and the 
perfect command of his attention. 

In this case, corporeal accomplishments 
are rendered subservient to the display of 
mental talents. But, in other professions, 
such as theatrical exhibition, or musical 
performance, the body is almost the sole 
agent, and the mind has hardly any share. 
Hence, in treating of the mind, care must 
be taken to separate all occupations, in 
which men, by the possession of bodily facul¬ 
ties, may, in any degree, become eminent 
from those requiring intellectual efforts. 




Almost all the lower employments of life 
demand little or no mental ability, or at 
least no superior intellectual endowments. 
For, as the greater part of mankind are en¬ 
gaged in them, it is necessary they should 
be simple, both in theory and practice, that 
all may be capable of exercising them. That 
facility, indeed, with which the business of 
extensive manufactories is performed, and 
with which the nicest specimens of art are 
executed, owes its origin to the superior ca¬ 
pacity of individuals. From their genius, 
is derived the invention of machinery, and 
peculiar modes of operation, which contri¬ 
bute so much to the abridgement and per¬ 
fection of human labour. 

Tlie imitations of sculpture , although, in 
general, confined to individuals, still possess 
an outline capable of originality, and may 
discover some degree of force of mind and 
vigour of genius. But all that brilliancy of 
execution, which we so much admire in en¬ 
gravings,' and other beautiful specimens of 
the arts, can be taken for no indication of 


229 


mental excellence, and ought to be esteemed 
as nothing more than neatness, and the per¬ 
fection of custom in the application of bodily 
faculties. The organs of some are, no doubt, 
better fitted for the attainment of skill and 
delicacy , 1 and the minds of some more dis¬ 
posed to cultivate corporeal talents, than 
those of others. But, as no capacity is so 
small as not to be qualified for physical em¬ 
ployments, in them, the intellect must be 
viewed only as under the influence of a 
particular passion, and as having its atten¬ 
tion engaged without its force being exerted. 
“ The soul often stands an idle spectator of 
the labour of the hands and the expedition 
of the feet.” 

Among mechanical arts, painting is not 
the least, and the representation of some 
great historical event is, undoubtedly, the 

1 Engraving, as a drawing must always precede, is merely 
execution; and if any person receive the appellation of a 
great genius, on account of his excellence in that art, he is 
indebted for it to the steadiness of his muscles, or the con¬ 
formation of his fingers. 


230 


highest effort of painting. But, even in a 
historical picture, the choice of the action, 
or the dignity of the whole, is never so much 
regarded, as the fidelity with which the 
parts are delineated, and the resemblance 
which they individually bear to nature. It 
may, indeed, be objected, that, in painting, 
nature is never exactly imitated ; that even 
in landscape and portrait painting, there is a 
portion of design or generalization. But 
the room for discrimination is never great. 
The time of a historical picture is said to be 
an instant, and turns always upon a circum¬ 
stance. In painting, as in poetry, it is not 
design, but execution or expression, which 
is chiefly valued. Although, therefore, a 
person may have a good claim to the epi¬ 
thet of a great painter, it can be no evidence 
that he has much to that of a great genius.* 

The power of theatrical exhibition, is, un- 

3 The mind is, indeed, little engaged in painting, and it is 
probable that the greatest painters were not to be distinguish¬ 
ed from common men in intellectual accomplishments. The 
writings of Sir Joshua Reynolds, and particularly his Essay 


231 

doubtedly, one of those qualifications which 
are to be distinguished from the faculties of 
the mind. For, it is evident, that no study- 
ing, or even conception of character, or 
other abstract theatrical excellence, can qua¬ 
lify any person for the representation of 
manners, without that flexibility of body 
which, in this case, is so eminently neces¬ 
sary. The excellence of theatrical repre¬ 
sentation depends more upon facility of 
imitating the peculiarities of human action, 
and displaying the passions of fhe soul, in 
the gestures of the body, and features of the 
face, than in any superior force of under¬ 
standing. Here, all is easily conceived, but 
not easily executed ; and simple to the 
mind, but difficult to the body. Had Gar¬ 
rick possessed no other talents than those 
which his plays exhibit, we should have 
never heard half the praise which has been 
bestowed upon him ; and had the greatness 

on Beauty, in the Idler, prove that he was a man of genius, 
as well as a great painter; but this union of talents was acci¬ 
dental. 


232 


of Shakespeare’s mind not been more evi¬ 
dent than his excellence as an actor, his 
name would, certainly, not have been, at 
this day, recollected . 3 Theatrical abilities 
require so little assistance from judgment, 
and so small a portion of the powers of the 
mind, that eminent performers have been 
known, whose intellectual capacity scarcely 
exceeded that degree of reason called in¬ 
stinct. But the stage is a profession which 
contains more show and splendour than, 
perhaps, any other; and is, on that account, 
highly gratifying to both spectators and ac¬ 
tors. For what will so powerfully influence 
our generosity and praise, as that which ad¬ 
ministers directly to our pleasures ; and 
what, again, can be so agreeable and flatter¬ 
ing, as the liberality and applause of mul¬ 
titudes . 4 There is, however, seldom any 

3 Shakespeare is said to have been an actor; but his abili¬ 
ty, in that line, never extended farther than the part of the 
Ghost, in his own play of Hamlet. 

4 The difference between the fortunes of authors and actors 
forms a very severe satire on the selfishness and frivolity of 


2 33 


good which is not balanced by an equal de¬ 
gree of evil. On the other hand, what can 
be more mortifying to one, who possesses 
mental ability, than to be under the neces¬ 
sity of a disadvantageous competition of 
bodily faculties with his inferior in all those 
qualities which dignify and adorn the mind; 
and what so humiliating, as to be obliged to 
stoop to such a person, and allow him to 
carry off the prize of applause ! 

A talent for musical performance is still 
more closely a corporeal accomplishment, 
a 

mankind. While the latter, for serving the luxuries of the 
public, enjoy, without labour, risk, or anxiety, all the com¬ 
forts which riches bestow; the former, as a recompense for 
instructing and improving mankind,—for consuming their 
minds in anxious speculations, and exhausting their bodies in 
painful application, are left to pine in penury and wretched¬ 
ness. A professed author must be considered as sacrificing 
his comfort to his fame ; and, if the sense of his superiority, 
and the consciousness that his name will flourish when the 
recollection of the children of this world has perished, did not 
form a pleasure far more refined than sensual gratification, 
much better for him to have chosen the meanest of trades; 
and the lowest of mechanical professions. 


234 


than those qualifications which are neces¬ 
sary to theatrical representation ; as, in the 
latter, may be found some share of judgment 
in directing the body, and governing the 
propriety of its application. Theatrical ta¬ 
lents may, undoubtedly, be heightened, and 
improved, by the aid of the mind. But 
how far the mind can assist musical per¬ 
formance is not so apparent. A delicacy of 
the organs which form the voice, and a faci¬ 
lity of imitating sounds, with a little atten¬ 
tion and application, seem to be all that is 
necessary to excel in vocal music . What is 
said of a good and bad ear appears to be an 
erroneous opinion, which has crept into re¬ 
pute, and become fashionable among man¬ 
kind, by accident. Vocal powers lie more 
in execution than conception ; and the voice, 
rather than the mind or the ears, is chieflv 
employed. No irregularity of hearing has 
yet been discovered, which gives variety of 
sound to different persons, but every pecu¬ 
liarity of that sense has hitherto been consi¬ 
dered only-to hear better or worse, more or 


235 


less. There seems,- therefore, no greater 
reason for ascribing imperfection in the art 
of singing to the irregular formation of the 
ears, than in painting to the squinting of the 
eyes. 

Ear, however, is, perhaps, only a peculiar 
term for taste. A good ear, a quick eye, and 
a clear brain, is, indeed, the language of 
those who take the organs for the mind. As 
every idea of intellectual operations must be 
expressed by an allusion to material, there 
are figurative expressions current in the 
world, such as a good heart, which often, to 
weak men, appear real principles; and some 
even go the length of composing disserta¬ 
tions on them. Dr. Gall has written upon 
sculls, and much has been said on the ear 
for music. 

To deny altogether that the mind has any 
partin musical performance, would, indeed, 
be to deny its existence. Whatever engages 
the bod} r , occupies, in some measure, the 
attention of the mind. In the formation of 
everv corporeal or active talent, a certain de- 
q 2 


236 

gree of mental ability, attention, experience, 
and habit, must be conjoined with a parti¬ 
cular conformation of organs. But, in many 
cases, the agency of the body so far exceeds 
the influence of the mind, that the latter is 
not to be mentioned in comparison with the 
former. 

The speculative part of music is, how¬ 
ever, to be distinguished from the practical; 
and a person may, undoubtedly, possess ta¬ 
lent for the one, without having any for the 
other. As far as judgment and experience 
appear, the mind may be said to be con¬ 
cerned ; as far as power of voice, or delicacy 
of touch in instrumental music, the body. 
As, however, our taste, and consequently 
our application and talents, depend very 
much upon our success, in music, the requi¬ 
site powers of the mind are generally found 
to accompany those of the body. Music, 
as a science, has certainly very little com*! 
pass ; 5 and Handel, notwithstanding all his 

5 Language is composed of terms, formed of vowels and 
consonants; and it is bounded only by the qualities of na* 


237 


art and eminence, may still have been a 
man of no great intellectual powers. It is 
easy, indeed, to conceive, that great powers 
of mind would be inimical to musical ta¬ 
lent ; as the distinctions in music are slen¬ 
der, and consequently cannot be laid hold 
of by a mind accustomed to attend only to 
greater. If, therefore, music require any 
peculiarity, of talent, it must be peculiar lit¬ 
tleness. 

Vaulting and dancing are slightly indebted 
to judgment, and remotely related to it. 
But however small a portion of mental 
ability may appear in them, they have not 
wanted their share of praise and admira¬ 
tion, more than the highest qualifications, 
and brightest embellishments, of the mind. 
Provided mankind be pleased, they are 
a 3 


fcure, which it represents, and every association of them, real 
or imaginary. Music, again, is a combination of sounds so 
similar as to unite, and so different as to produce variety ; but 
as there are but seven notes, it is a science of a very limited 


nature. 


238 


generally little solicitous about the manner. 
Talents which contribute to entertainment, 
will always appear meritorious, however 
little connection they may have with the 
understanding. Whatever tends to pro¬ 
duce gratification, certainly demands praise; 
but we cannot ascribe that to the intellect, 
which belongs only to the constitution. 

Nothing is, indeed, more contrary to 
reason, than to judge of the powers of the 
mind by the construction of the body. It 
is as absurd to brand a person as a fool, be¬ 
cause he is deficient in theatrical accom¬ 
plishments, as because he cannot leap a 
certain distance. 

As there is no peculiarity of mind which 
fits a person for one employment, and dis¬ 
qualifies him for another, what depends 
upon the mind will always be equally well 
executed, by minds of the same strength, 
if no adventitious cause intervene to coun¬ 
teract their operations. Mental talents have, 
indeed, little connection with the active 
part of theatrical pursuits. But, even i 


239 

those employments in which they are neces¬ 
sary, the success of one person beyond ano¬ 
ther does not always arise from intellectual 
superiority. Where one of two persons, 
possessing, upon the whole, an equal solidity 
of understanding, and comprehension of in¬ 
tellect, is, in any particular respect, excelled 
by the other, nothing can be more appa¬ 
rent than the existence of external circum¬ 
stances, which cramp the powers, and divert 
the energies, of the mind 

Constitutional qualities do, certainly, of¬ 
ten operate in contradiction to intellec¬ 
tual talents. However different physical 
causes may be from moral, man, by his con¬ 
nection with matter, is rendered dependant 
a 4 

6 What is called smartness , is affected by the state of sen¬ 
sation, although it depends also on the absence of remote 
ideas. A person who possesses good spirits, will do business, 
with greater facility, and better, than another of a superior 
understanding, but of a weakly constitution . Wit also fre¬ 
quently decays with animal spirits, as it depends much upon 
that liveliness of feeling which commands attention, and 
stimulates exertion. 


240 


on the body as the medium of employing 
the powers of the mind. Corporeal pecu¬ 
liarities, among other adventitious circum¬ 
stances, often mislead us in judging of the 
qualities of the mind. But so many fo¬ 
reign causes interrupt its exercise, that, per¬ 
haps, upon no subject, can it be said to be 
fairly exercised. At least we can never 
separate them so completely from it, as to 
judge perfectly of its native extent. The 
original degree of mental ability conferred 
on mankind, differs, it may be thought, 
considerably among individuals. But the 
causes which affect its operations are so va¬ 
rious, as to render it impossible to distinguish 
this difference with any degree of nicety. 
Two persons are not, perhaps, to be found, 
between whom circumstances permit a per¬ 
fectly fair comparison of natural strength of 
jnind. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


THE IMPORTANCE OF HABIT; SOME STUDIES DIS- 
QUALIFY FOR OTHERS. 

Habit naturally arises from the appro¬ 
priation of our talents; the appropriation of 
our talents, again, from the limitation of 
the powers of the mind. 

As the mind is capable of containing only 
a certain number of images, its exertions 
must unavoidably lead to a confined mode 
of operation. 

The effectt of habit are not, however, to 
be confounded with those arising from the 
degrees of ability. The first apply to direc¬ 
tion ; the second to extent. Habit circum¬ 
scribes the number of our pursuits and ac¬ 
quisitions ; the degrees of ability, our pro¬ 
gress in them. 

When the attention of the mind is strong- 


242 


ly directed to one subject, it neglects all 
others, and makes no improvement, but as 
it has a connection with the favourite pur¬ 
suit, or as the analogy of one science fur¬ 
nishes ideas on another. With regard to 
the mind, therefore, habit is of the first im¬ 
portance; as from this principle, may, in 
a great measure, be accounted for that 
seeming difference, in species of intellect, 
which is frequently met with in the world, 
but which appears in greater excess among 
the followers of literature, than those of any 
other profession. 

Whether, in habit, the body or the mind 
is most engaged is uncertain. So far, in¬ 
deed, as it regards mechanical arts, the 
question is unimportant; as every bias, or 
habit of action , impressed on the mind, 
must be unconsciously received, and can 
haVe no connection with reflection. 

Habits of living will change the consti¬ 
tution of the body; and habits of thinking, 
the nature of the mind. But, as habit is 
ultimately important only by its effect on 


243 


the intellect, it seems to be more nearly 
related to the latter, than to the former. 

All new ideas occasion difficulty and ex¬ 
ertion, and never mingle readily with those 
previously acquired. As, therefore, we have 
an antipathy to labour, and propensity to 
ease, the predilection for recurring to former 
ideas is very naturally accounted for, by 
the facility with which they are re-con¬ 
ceived. A person has always an insensible 
tendency to fall into his usual train of think¬ 
ing, till, at length, by dwelling on a parti¬ 
cular set of objects, he, sometimes, creates 
a circle of thoughts, from which every idea 
arising from the other parts of nature is 
excluded, and in which alone he delights 
to employ himself, and exerts all his powers. 
Thus, a mathematician has no conception 
of the metaphors and similes of the ora¬ 
tor, nor of the imagery and scenery of the 
poet, and no facility in producing them, 
because accustomed to look at other ob¬ 
jects. The orator and poet, again, never 
think of the abstract qualities of quantity 


244 


and form, because habituated to confine 
their reflection within a different line of 
nature, to attend only to the more familiar 
properties of things, and those objects which 
immediately affect the passions. 

The scope and acquisitions of the mind are 
certainly often very much narrowed by habit. 
As a material body tends in that direction 
in which it has been impelled, so the mind, 
when it has been accustomed to any parti¬ 
cular train of ideas, continues to follow the 
same course of thinking, and to retrace the 
path which it has been habituated to tread. 
Thus, we always prefer a known principle 
to determine by; and those things which 
have already received our approbation, we 
trust to with little scrupulosity. In the 
same manner, we often permit a person 
whose judgment we know to be sound, to 
dictate opinions to us; and a very insipid 
jest, from one whose wit we are accustomed 
to admire, will command our laughter. 

All education seems but habits which the 
mind receives. For, when once we under- 


245 


stand any subject, it requires little exertion 
to delineate it, or to point out its nature, 
and explain the most complicated combina¬ 
tion of its qualities. The most simple ideas, 
without habit, appear abstract; and, the 
most abstract, by habit, appear simple. 

Nothing is well executed until we ac¬ 
quire a habit of doing it; until we per¬ 
form it naturally and instinctively, without 
thought or reflection. Practice produces 
all ease; and the extent to which it may 
carry dexterity is incalculable. When we 
see the feats of vaulters and rope-dancers, 
we consider them supernatural ; when 
we view the performances of art, we are 
struck with astonishment. Works of litera¬ 
ture appear equally wonderful. But all 
are the effect of habit. From this source 
the greatest abilities are derived, and to 
this point the greatest exertions ultimately 
come. Every attainment of the mind ends 
in habit. It has been said that there is a 
knack in making a speech 7 . But every 
7 Dr. Johnson's Character of Lord Mansfield. 


246 


talent may be called a knack. It is a knack 
to reason justly, to conceive fancifully, or 
express delicately; that is, circumstances 
have concurred so as to lead the mind to 
acquirements, which are now become habits, 
and exercised with ease. 

But it often happens, that, while we ac¬ 
quire a habit of doing one thing, we inca¬ 
pacitate ourselves for doing any thing else. 
That education which fits a person for one 
employment, naturally disqualifies him for 
a different; and the same application which 
leads to one attainment, generally obstructs 
his progress in another. 

The more intensely the mind has dwelt 
upon any set of objects, the deeper their 
impression will be engraven in it; and the 
longer it has employed itself upon any 
subject, the more steadily will it rest upon 
it. Habit and application grow up to¬ 
gether. In the pursuit of any excellence, 
the mind soon becomes confined to a cer¬ 
tain mode of operation, from which, it has, 
afterwards, neither the power nor inclina¬ 
tion to deviate. 


247 

Habit is always dangerous, in proportion 
to the progress which a person is capable of 
making in any science. For, it will be 
found, on examination, that universality of 
genius depends upon its moderation; and 
versatility of capacity upon its mediocrity. 
No author has, perhaps, a better claim to 
the character of universal genius than Vol¬ 
taire. He has written both novels and 
plays, and is, at the same time, a philoso¬ 
pher, a historian, and an epic poet. In 
whatever he attempts, he is respectable; 
although his merit is never of the highest 
rank, nature having prohibited excellence 
in contrary extremes. 

The acquisitions of the scholar resemble 
the progress of the traveller; the farther he 
has advanced, the farther he has to return. 
When a person has employed himself upon 
a particular subject, and afterwards wishes 
to bestow his efforts upon another, the na¬ 
ture of which requires a different mode of 
application, he finds an exertion necessary 
to dismiss former ideas, to check the impetus 


248 


of the mind, and bring it to the new pursuit 
It is said of an eminent ancient teacher of 
music, that, from scholars, who had been 
under the tuition of other masters, he took 
double fees, because he considered the diffi¬ 
culty of their instruction increased by the 
bad habits which they had acquired. In 
like manner, it is evident, when we have 
received a branch of education, which is at 
variance with that to which we afterwards 
turn ourselves, we have to unlearn what we 
have already learned. 

Therefore, although men of great talents, 
are originally capable of any thing in which 
the mind can be engaged; yet it is certain, 
that, by indulging some studies, they may 
disqualify themselves for others. Locke or 
Newton might have been as eminent poets 
as Homer or Milton, had they given them¬ 
selves early to the study of poetry. But 
after their minds had been employed in ab¬ 
stract speculations, they became incapable 
of being again bended to those ornamental 
parts of learning, which require lighter 


249 


embellishments. Hence, we perceive why 
a great philosopher is not a great poet, and 
why a great poet is not a great philosopher; 
that both might have been either ; that the 
poet might have been the philosopher, or 
the philosopher the poet. 

That mind which is great, will, if exert¬ 
ed, exhibit its excellence on all subjects, 
from mathematical demonstration to lyric 
poetry; and it will be found, on observa¬ 
tion, that even the abstracted philosopher 
possesses the talent of wit, in proportion to 
the extent of his mind*. The operation of 
judgment is, no doubt, to separate qualities, 
and that of wit to unite them. Both are, 
however, performed by extending reflection; 
and the same power which separates will 
join. 

But great performances, as they require 
R 

2 There is a great and small wit, as well as a strong and 
weak judgment, or a comprehensive and narrow understand¬ 
ing. The wit of Dr. Johnson is not like the wit of Foote of 
Juord Chesterfield, 


250 


labour, lead the mind into habits. By 
being long employed upon one subject, it 
becomes incapable of bestowing its atten¬ 
tion upon others. Intense application soon 
gives a characteristic to the intellect, and 
separates human acquirements so as to 
limit each individual to a single talent. 
Hence extraordinary excellence in any pur¬ 
suit, is purchased by an equal sacrifice in 
others. 

It is well known that many celebrated 
characters have appeared very different as 
companions and as authors, and that while* 
they shone in books they were dull in so¬ 
ciety. Wit depends upon seizing all the 
relations of any particular object. This is 
instantly done by a mind unembarrassed, 
and which has its attention at command; 
but another, engaged in abstract specula¬ 
tions, requires time to accomplish it. No¬ 
thing is more certain, therefore, than that 
promptitude, and repartee, may be lost by 
an excess of study. Addison is said to have 
discovered, in conversation, no portion of 


251 


that brilliancy of imagination which ap¬ 
pears in his works. The same author fur¬ 
nishes an instance to prove that the smallest 
change of habit is difficult. It appears an 
easy matter to one who wrote prose with 
such a fine vein of fancy, to have transfused 
the same spirit into poetry ; yet, notwith¬ 
standing the light shade by which they are 
separated, his poetry is cold and lifeless. 
The same character is given of Cicero* 
He likewise, with all his eloquence, was a 
bad poet. 

Almost all inequalities of genius are to 
be traced to peculiarity of application. It 
has been remarked, that a very high degree 
of capacity is unsuitable to ordinary sub¬ 
jects. But it would be absurd to suppose, 
that this arose from any other cause than 
habit. The understanding is, in a consider¬ 
able degree, under the power of will; and 
where a man of talents can bring his atten¬ 
tion to the object, he will always excel an 
inferior. Natural philosophy , chemistry , and 
mechanics, however useful, are certainly 
r 2 


252 

neither the most difficult nor sublime of 
sciences; but we have seen that they are 
best cultivated by exalted genius. Agree¬ 
able and elegant trifling, is also often found 
allied to superior powers; and the explana¬ 
tion of xvords, grammatical skill , and critical 
emendation , are not less frequently the re¬ 
sult of sagacity. But that law of the mind 
which prevents us from doing two things 
at once, renders a choice necessary; and 
having chosen the higher pursuits, men of 
ability are excluded from all practice in the 
inferior. 

We remain in this world so short a pe¬ 
riod, that there is hardly time to acquire a 
habit to that degree which constitutes excel¬ 
lence, instead of to change from one to ano¬ 
ther. There are also certain climacterics 
incident to the intellect, arising from moral 
causes, which no power of genius can coun¬ 
teract. But that all things are different to 
the mind only as they furnish many or 
few ideas, or as its habits accord or disagree 
with them, is certain. Gould we, therefore. 


253 


admit the doctrine of transmigration, and 
suppose the mind to be occasionally stripped 
of its ideas, there is no doubt that it might 
pass through a variety of changes, and per¬ 
form many parts; always appearing in that 
character which chance directs, and excel¬ 
ling to that degree which circumstances 
permit. 


R 3 


CHAPTER XX. 


THE UNIVERSAL CRITERION OE GENIUS. 

Every system is but an enumeration of 
facts on a particular subject. As the facts 
regarding mental operations are not numer¬ 
ous, the foregoing theory is very simple. 
The laws of the intellect are, indeed, so 
few, and so mutually dependent, that, 
while we speak of one, we cannot, without 
difficulty, avoid mentioning another 1 . All, 
in reality, exhibit only the same quality— 
mental energy—in different circumstances*. 

It is first endeavoured to be shewn that 

x Education is nearly connected with labour , labour with 
habit, habit with appropriation of exertion, and appropria¬ 
tion with taste. 

2 To recur once more to the subject, do not circumstances 
account for the different faculties of the mind ? What is 
memory but a view of things as they are or were ; judgment, 
as they should be; fancy, as they may b# } 


255 


all single ideas are equally easily con¬ 
ceived, and that number only occasions in¬ 
tellectual difficulty. From this foundation, 
naturally follows the conclusion, that the 
person who can carry arrangement farthest, 
possesses the greatest mind. Next appear 
those external circumstances which affect 
mental attainment. Under the term educa¬ 
tion , all these may be comprehended ; first, 
the opportunity of improvement; secondly, 
labour , or the exertion made by the.mind ; 
thirdly, the subject on which it exerts itself, 
or the appropriation of its powers, which, 
again, depends upon taste , inclination, or 
peculiarity of passion, arising either from 
the nature of the constitution, or from cir¬ 
cumstances 3 ; and lastly, habit, or the spe¬ 
cies of excellence acquired. Whatever else 
has been said in the foregoing pages, con- 
R 4 

3 Taste, again, may arise from the degree of ability. But, 
in that case, cannot be included among the circumstances 
which affect the mind. 


256 


sists in explanation, the correction of errors, 
or in consequences and inferences. 

From the equality of ideas, is inferred 
the unity of the intellectual powers. 

Hence, as the excellence of one intel¬ 
lectual faculty is proportioned to that of 
another, the success of the mind would be 
the same in the most contrary pursuits, if 
the labour which great performances re¬ 
quire did not beget habits inconsistent 
with it. 

In estimating genius, therefore, one em¬ 
ployment of the mind may be taken for 
another; judgment for fancy, and fancy 
for judgment, observing always to give ad¬ 
ventitious circumstances their due weight. 

Extent of genius may be discovered, in 
every shape, by the expanse of mind dis¬ 
played. Judgment is fancy condensed, and 
fancy is judgment diffused. Almost every 
variety of literature may be characterised, 
both as a species of description and of discri¬ 
mination. The closest reasoning, and most 


‘ 257 

abstract argumentation, are biit enumera¬ 
tions of facts and descriptions of circum¬ 
stances; while the simplest . delineation of 
objects, or the most unadorned narration of 
facts, discovers a portion of method and 
arrangement, a certain degree of choice and 
rejection. 

The deduction of maxims from facts, and 
the selection of general resemblances from 
common appearances, are nearly similar. 
Both display the mind uniformly as they 
discover division and connection. As things 
are classified and arranged, united and dis¬ 
tinguished, comprehension is demonstrated. 
The degree of genius is always proportion¬ 
ate to extent and correctness of system, 
method, and plan, in every variety of em¬ 
ployment in which the mind is engaged 4 . 
Harris beautifully observes,—“ The theory 
“ of whole and parts descends even to an 
“ essay, to a sonnet, to an ode.. These 

4 Novelty, because understood, is not here mentioned. A 
plan which is a copy, can, indeed, never be great. But if 
an}' design be not original in one person, it is in another. 


258 


rt minuter efforts of genius, unless they pos- 
“ sess a certain totality, lose a capital beauty 
“ derived from their union. Not only is 
“this stupendous universe one whole, but 
“ such also is a tree, a shrub, a flower.” 
Thus those odes of Anacreon which are 
founded on some general thought, are the 
most beautiful s . What also constitutes the 
merit of Dryden’s celebrated ode, and what 
renders the “ Plutus” of Aristophanes so ex¬ 
cellent, if it be not the integrity, or unity 

5 The II, ibe XfX, the XXIV, and the XXXI, may be 
referred to. OF these the XIX, although, perhaps, not the 
test, we give becanse short, and well suited to illustrate the 
above remarks. 

“ The thirsty earth sucks up the showers. 

Which from his urn Aquarius pours; 

The trees, which wave their boughs profuse. 

Imbibe the earth's prolific juice; 

The sea, in his prodigious cup. 

Brinks all the rain and rivers up; 

The sun too, thirsts, and strives to drain 
The sea, the rivers, and the rain ; 

And nightly, when his course is run. 

The merry moon drinks up the sun. 

Then give me wine, and tell me why, 

Mv friends, should all things drink but ! r” 


259 


of action, consequent to generality? The 
“ School for Scandal” also possesses gener¬ 
ality in an eminent degree ; but the come¬ 
dies of Cumberland are very deficient in 
this quality. 

Connection and distinction depend upon 
the same faculty, and may both be includ¬ 
ed in discrimination. Every acute remark 
is the produce of an extensive experience, 
and the result of many ideas. When thought 
is condensed, much genius is comprised in 
few words. One page of the “ Rambler* 
contains as much as six of the “ Spectator 
and there is, perhaps, as much thought in 
Montesquieu’s “ Spirit of Laws” as is neces¬ 
sary to the composition of several epic 
poems. 

It is singular, that all strong minds have 
a predilection for antithesis. Pope abounds 
with it; Dr. Johnson seldom writes with¬ 
out it; and in it consists the merit of the 
Celebrated Letters of Junius. Antithesis is 
the excellence of both wit and judgment. 
The mind reasons best by contraries, the 


260 


truth of a proposition is most apparent when 
accompanied by its reverse, and all demon¬ 
stration is distinct as it is contrasted 

A small number of general ideas which 
can be expanded into many particular, is a 
striking indication of genius, and a multi¬ 
tude of particular which can be resolved 
into a few general, an evident demonstra¬ 
tion of the want of it. Close reasoning 
and strong thinking always denote superior 
intellectual powers ; while diffuseness, as 
well as want of plan, is an infallible sign of 
shallowness of judgment and scantiness of 
genius. The magnitude of mind which any 
piece of composition evinces, may, there¬ 
fore, be estimated by trying whether it can 
be condensed without expulsion of ideas, 
in the enumeration of which attention is to 
be paid to those only which represent some 

6 By antithesis, however, is meant only a contrast of things, 
and not a play of words. Such expressions as, “ When 
u unadorn’d, adorn’d the most,” if understood literally, are 
mere contradictions; and if not, “ to palter with us in a 
“ double sense” is no less inconsistent with dignity than it 
is with candour. 


261 

combination or relation of qualities. For, 
as every word has a meaning, it is impossi¬ 
ble to write without specifying objects ; but 
unless their relations be shewn, no wisdom 
can, from such compositions, be acquired. 
Some works are couched in terms so general 
and indefinite, as to fix no determinate 
meaning whatever; and although they, in 
reality, furnish no ideas, yet the whole has 
an imposing appearance. Harris’ “ Philo¬ 
sophical Arrangements,” seems to be a book 
about nothing; and there is a treatise, cal¬ 
led “ Nettleton on Happiness,” which is a 
still more complete specimen of this species 
of writing. 

Those ideas which are both general and 
acute, minute and comprehensive, ought to 
rank far above those which are more obvi¬ 
ous and simple. The wider the range is 
which any idea involves and gives to the 
mind, or the more philosophy or theory of 
things it contains, the more it is to be va¬ 
lued. By a diffuse style, a simple and light 
idea may be spread over many pages. At- 


tention ought, therefore, to be paid not to 
take words for thoughts. There are works 
the one half of which consists in anticipa¬ 
tion and .recapitulation; in stating what is 
to be done, and what has been done? 

A repeated idea may, however, by chang¬ 
ing its relations, create others new, for to 
diversify connections* is to multiply ideas. 
By an unexpected turn, a common senti¬ 
ment gives great pleasure, and there is often 
more merit in the application of a quotation , 
than in the passage quoted. Novelty, in¬ 
deed, seldom extends farther than to a 
change of arrangement; for what is all 
literature but the same principles and facts, 
the same anecdotes and images, exhibited in 
different attitudes and combinations ! 

As the accuracy of the judgment depends 
always upon the expanse of the mind, a 
single observation is sometimes sufficient to 
discover genius of the highest rank, and all 
its rays will often appear concentrated in an 
individual object. Thus, the more remarks 
that can he made upon one proposition, or 


263 


that: can arise, from any particular, the more 
extensive must baa the knowledge, and the 
greater the comprehension and acuteness 
of that: mind which perceives sn many re¬ 
lations and distinctions between it and other 
things, and seesifcin.so many different, views 
and connections with respect to them. Of 
this, Butler's- account of Hudi bras’ language 
is a great example. 

‘♦But, wheirhe pleas'd to sbew't, his speech, 

Io: loftiness of sound, was rich ; 

A: Babylonish dialed. 

Which learned pedants much affect; 

It was a party-colour'd dress 
Of patch'd and py-ball'd languages; 

'Twas English cut on Greek and Latin, 

Like fustian heretofore on satin; 

It had an odd promiscuous tone. 

As if h' had talk'd three parts in one; 

Which made some think, when he did gabble* 

Th' had heard three labourers of Babel, 

Or Cerberus himself pronounce 
A leash of languages at once." 

How many different iorrns does the same 
thought here assume! It seems to spread 
on every side, and unite itself to the most 
remote objects. 


264 


At other times genius appears in that ex¬ 
tensive arrangement of ideas, in which each 
bears no prominent figure, and serves only 
to compose a part of one great whole. But* 
as comprehension is acquired by multiply¬ 
ing discrimination, and acuteness increased 
by extent of comprehension, each may be in¬ 
ferred from the other, and all human talents 
simplified into the knowledge of relation . 
Every person’s genius is known by his 
judgment; and it is only by the quantum 
of thought which it contains, that all com* 
position ought to be valued. ’ f 

* i - : 3£ «| 'K> 

J tWHtniktHnq id o ne brirf d 

pinis. 


D. Chalmers, & Co. 7 
Printers, Aberdeen. 3 



GENERAL INDEX, 


Ability, its differences - 11 , 85, 125, 147,210 

natural and acquired - 13, 37 

defect of, to be ascribed to the body as well as 
to the mind - - - 12 

some real difference of ib. 

dependant on knowledge - 42 

on minuteness of attention - 141 

what - - - .73, 93, 98, 195 

arrangement, the criterion of - 195, 201 

Abstraction produces a poverty of particular ideas 158 

tiresome - - - - I6g 


Action habit of, its nature 

•- 

242 

Acuteness produced by the same cause as comprehen- 

sion - 

- 

78,79 

Accident, reputation the production of - 

- 

207, 223 

Acquisition, to a certain extent, within the 

power of 

every person - 

- 

109, 125 

Alexander , the cause of his greatness 

- 

17 

an instance of his affectation 

- 

23 

Allegory, how far original 

- 

210 

Analogies hidden, how suddenly conceived 

- 

119 

Ancients, their advantages over the moderns 

- 

208 

Antithesis, an evidence of genius 

- 

259 

false - - - 

- 

260 

Application, identified with ability 

- 

116, 142 


GENERAL INDEX. 


Appropriation of labour, its importance - 132 

Arrangement the criterion of ability - 195, 201,257 

Arts, mechanical, their rank - 228 


Beauties minute, their rank 
Books made from books 
Brutes, the strength of their intellects - 
Business men of, ignorant of science 
by whom best done - 


91 

212, 262 
25 
136 
239 


71 
147 
251 

- 46, 101,206, 223 

- 65 
66 

202 


Capacity, what - « - * 

Character, the nature of, dependant on ability - 
Chemistry, its rank - 
Circumstances, their importance 
Classification, its importance - 
how accomplished 
Comedy, its rank 
Comprehension and acuteness originate from one cause 78, 94 
the criterion of genius - 78, 186, 195 

Conciseness, what - - - - 172 

Conclusion, the object of thinking - - 30, 69 

Confusion of ideas, whence arising » - 82, 83 

Connection, its necessity - * - 35 

Constitution, its effect on the mind - - 12, 239 

Critical-emendation, by whom best performed - 252 

Critics, their unreasonableness - - 172 


Dancing, its rank - 237 

Darius, the occasion of his failure - - 17 

Definition, its difficulty - - - 106 

Detail, its importance - 120, 12L 

Description, not the talent of a superior mind - 160, 162 



GENERAL INDEX. 


Description, its rank - 

- 

215 

of the same nature as discrimination 

256 

Dignity personal, how constituted 

- 

14 

Diffusiveness,, its merit 

- 

260 

Difficulty, what - 

- 

28,75, 129 

Distinction, its difficulty 

- 

69 

Discovery, how produced 

- 

38 

resembles paradox - 

- 

79 

Distinctness, its importance 

- 

70, 194 

Ear, good, what - 

. 

235 

Education cannot change natural ability 

- 

26, 118 

its importance 

- 

37 

dependant on ability 

- 

38 

its effects - 

- 

43, 46 

accidental 

- 

46 

scientific and self to be distinguished 

48 

every person capable of 

- 

50 

merely habit 

- 

244 

Eloquence depends on minute ideas 

- 

162 

often without ability 

- 

176 

Embellishment, not to be separated from utility 

122 

Engraving, its rank - 

- 

228 

Enthusiasm, how far a proof of talent 

- 

144 

Events, an imperfect index to the mind 

- 

17 

Excellence in contrary pursuits, impossible 

- 

139, 247 

Execution, no evidence of great ability 

- 

87 

its value - 

- 

89, 124 

difficult to men of great talents 

- 

155 

sometimes discovers great ability 

- 

203,216 

Exertion, on what dependant - 

- 

143 

Experience does not always produce ability 

- 

67, 68 


GENERAL INDEX. 


Experience, of two kinds 

- 


09 

Expression, indefinite, pleases - 

- 


169 

its power 

- 


170 

rules for - 

- 


179 

Fables hereditary - 

. 


210 

Facts, science consists in the knowledge of 

- 


39 

general, the knowledge of, ability 

- 

73, 

254 

Faculties, all possessed in an equal degree 

- 


182 

Fame, how acquired - 

- 


130 

Fancy, incompatible with great talents 

- 


159 

of the same nature as judgment 

- 

185, 

256 

inferior to judgment 

- 


192 

what - 

- 

185, 

193 

Figures, limited in number 

- 


210 

Genius, sometimes surmounts want of opportunity 


52 

how ascertained 

- 


74 

why sometimes admired 

- 


88 

no peculiarity of 


114, 

184 

universal, does not exist 

134, 

247, 

250 

a person may have too much for some 

sub- 


jects - 

147, 

150, 

196 

and how 

- 

145, 

,155 

an incorrect definition of 

- 


161 

mediocrity of, necessary to some subjects 


102 

same as wisdom 

- 


184 

the criterion of - 

- 

195, 

256 

transmigration, the doctrine of, applied 

to 


252 

Generality, its value 

- 


259 

Generalship, the talents it requires 

- 

17, 

128 

Greatness, personal, what 

- 


14 


GENERAL INDEX. 


Habit, its nature 

- 

241 

more applicable to the mind than to the body 

243 

how acquired 

- 

ib. 

its effect - 

- 

244 

depends on Strength of mind 

- 

247 

confines the mind to a particular talent 

- 

250 

Heart, good, what - 

- 

235 

Heroes, why admired - 

- 

16 

History, how far capable of displaying genius 

- 

200 

Humour, incompatible with great powers 

- 

160 

an evidence of the absence of great ability 

163 

Ideas, equality of - 

- 

27 

general, produce ability 

- 

73 

false, have a beauty 

- 

158 

superficial, why they please 

- 

121,168 

how to be estimated 

- 

260,261 

Images, a common stock of - 

- 

210 

imagination, of the same nature as judgment 

- 

185 

in one sense different 

- 

191 

Imitation, an, may exceed the original 

- 

209 

Importance, what - 

- 

29 

Inclination, its importance 

- 

102 

not an infallible criterion of ability 

107 

Indifference, how produced 

- 

146 

Industry, its value in life 

- 

22, 119 

Interest, want of, incapacitates 

- 

145 

Invention, its difficulty 

- 

48 

the criterion of ability 

- 

50 

depends on patience 

- 

124 

the same as discovery 

- 

201 


GENERAL INDEX. 


Judgment, the difference between and fancy - 187 

Knowledge, how perfected - * « 38 

its importance - 40 

its connection with ability - 42 

only the data of thinking - - 101,193 

Labour necessary to excellence - 119,125,134 

the price of fame - - - 130 

Language, strong, what - - - 71 

what improperly so called - ib. 

command of, how acquired - 123 

Learning, some proof of capacity - • 38 

its importance - 43 

to be distinguished from ability - 47, 67 

Life, success in, how obtained - 20 

Literature the fairest test of ability - - 17 


Magnitude, unconnected with mental exertion 
Mankind, their selfishness - 
Manner, produced by passion - 
inferior to matter - 
important - 

Manufactories, the business of, how simplified - 
Mathematics, how far they assist reasoning 
their difficulty - 
Maxims, how formed 
Mechanics, their rank - 

Memory founded on interest - 
how formed - 

the want of, a general complaint 
in some cases great, as ability is small 


27, 30 
232 
lib 
122,178 
161 
228 
72 
104 
72 
251 
54,59 
55 
59 
61 



GENERAL INDEX. 


Memory, a particular species of, difficult to be accounted 
for - 62 

Men old, not always wise - 67 

young, how to be directed in the choice of a profes¬ 
sion - - - 107,108 

great, how produced - - - 130 

Merit necessary to reputation - - - 130 

Metaphor, its rank - - - - 91 

Metaphors, every person capable of forming - 123 

may possess different degrees of merit 216 

Military enterprizes, the degree of talent necessary for 128 
Mind and body, difference between - - 11 

inequality of - «. - 12,85,106 

limited- ... 33, 136, 137 

appears originally without ideas - 37 

expansion of, how accomplished - 
littleness of, the criterion of 
vigour of, what 
excellence of, what 
the same in all circumstances 
equally fitted for all things 
superiority of, unaccountable 
cannot attend to two things at once 
all its qualities may be reduced to one 
laws of, similar 
unity of its faculties 

Moderns, their advantages over the ancients 
Moral science, its divisions 

inconceivable to some persons 
Morality, its sublimity 
Music, vocal, its rank - 

instrumental, its rank • * 


38 
82 
93 

98 

99 

- 103, 109,249,256 
118 
137 
183 
254 
256 
208 
9 

105 
ib. 

234 
236 


GENERAL INDEX. 

Music, wliafc ----- 237 

Narration, propriety of, on what dependant - 117 

its rank - - - - 215 

Name, authority of, derived from habit - 244* 

Nature, its extent - - - - 96, 132 

Nerve, strength of, its importance in public speaking 227 
Novels, their rank - - - - 205 


Occupations, lower, demand little talent - 228 

Opportunity, its importance - - 46, 101,207,223 

Order, its necessity - - - - 33 

different laws of - - - 36 

Orginality, an evidence of genius - 50,78,208 

its limits - - - - 210 

Ornament, a single, how far it may possess merit 123 

Outline, the true criterion of ability - 90 


Painting, its rank - 128,229 

Passion to be distinguished from force of mind - 114 

how formed - - - - 115 

produces exertion - - - 116 

character - ib. 


Performance, musical, its rank - - 233 

Performances, fanciful, by whom best executed 157,163 
why preferred to those of judgment 168 
great, producehabit - - 249 

Philosophy, its superiority oyer poetry 154,191, 193 

of a general nature - - 155 

natural, its rank - - 251 

Philosopher, his province - - - 165 

why inqapable of poetry - - 249 


GENERAL INDEX. 


Plan, the criterion of genius - 
more difficult than execution 
all mental operations consist of - 
Poem-epic, resembles a system 
Poetry, in a rude state of society, its nature 
inferior to philosophy - 
its irregularity - 

of a particular nature 
its execution difficult 
lyric, its rank - 

Poet, a great, but an ordinary genius 

his province - - - - 

why incapable of philosophy 
Poets, sublime, not produced in learned ages 
Powers, intellectual, the unity of - 
Pride of sentiment different from greatness of tnind 
Principles, how formed - 

general, best works founded on 
Prudence, on what dependant - 
different from judgment 


123,257 

124 

>ib. 

201 

43 

151 

152 
155 
202 

ib. 

162 

165 

249 

15# 

10,256 

23 

67 

211 

19 

191 


Quotation, its merit - 262 


Reading the chief source of experience - 69 

Reason, what - - - - 93 

Reasoners, two species of 85 

Relation, all genius consists in the knowledge of 264 

Reputation dependant on accident 1 40, 207, 225 

Resemblances general, their similarity to principles 257 
Riches, whence chiefly derived - 22 

Rope-dancers, their astonishing feats - - 245 

derive their powers chiefly from habit ib. 
b 


GENERAL INDEX. 


Sayings, coarse, not to be confounded with strong lan- 


guage - 

- 

71 

Sayings, smart, require no great talents 

- 

95 

Science, what - 

- 

39 

one not to be understood without another 

43 

Sculpture, its rank - 

- 

128,228 

Selection, its difficulty 

- 

211 

Servility, the means of preferment 

- 

20 

Simile, its rank ... 

- 

91 

Simplicity of ideas, the origin of ability 

- 

71 

seldom the offspring of ignorance 

- 

134 

Simplification, the object of all science 

- 

30 

Skill, grammatical, by whom chiefly possessed 


252 

Smartness, whence - 

- 

239 

Speaking, public, its requisites 

- 

227 

Stage a tempting profession 

- 

232 

Statesmen may be successful without talent 

- 

18 

Style, peculiarity of, derived from passion 

- 

117 

ability not to be judged of by 

- 

169,176 

the different species of - 

- 

172, 174 

beauty of, on what dependant 

- 

178 

Subjects, difference of 

- 

23,104 

produces difference of success 

206 

same as opportunity 

- 

207 

Sublime the, what - 

- 

123 

System, what - 

- 

254 

Taste, our exertions directed by 

- 

113 

its varieties - 

- 

114 

ability necessary to 

- 

146, 167 

Talent, peculiarity of, what - - 102,116 

, 144,226 

no difference in the nature of - 

- 

110,115 


GENERAL INDEX. 


Talent, the most useful - - - 130 

happy, its value - - - 161 

mediocrity of, necessary to some pursuits 148, 162 
corporeal, what - 235 

Talents, all acquired - 37 

corporeal and mental, those only different 226 

Theatrical exhibition, its rank - - 230 

disadvantages attending 233 

Theory, the criterion of ability - - 77 

false, its importance - - - 81 

persons capable of, who do not seem to be 223 
Thinking, the art of, what - - - 34 

its importance ... 68 

its object - 60 

the fatigue of - - - 120 

Thought, too much, injurious to works of entertainment 173 
Time and space, how measured - 59 

Totality, its value - - - 258 

Transferring ideas, difficulty of - - 139,251 

Tragedy, its rank - 202 

Travellers, not always wise - 67 

Trifling, elegant, the art of, by whom possessed 252 


Vaulting, its rank - 237 

Vaulters, their powers derived from habit - 245 

Verbiage necessary - - - - 173 

Views extensive, how attained - - 124 

Virtue, how far a criterion of ability - 22 

Wit, its excellence - - - - 31 

how debased - 32 

to be distinguished from its object - ib. 

b 2 


GENERAL INDEX. 


Wit, how far a recollection 

- 

- 

70 

how produced 

- 

* 71,95, 

250 

lost by the decay of animal 

spirits 

- 

239 

its alliance with judgment 

- 

r 

249 

depends on judgment 

- 

r 

ib. 

a great and small 

* 

- 

ib. 

lost by study 

- 

- 

250 

Wisdom, how attained 

- 

3£ 

!, 68 

Words, by whom best explained 

- 

- 

252 

Works of entertainment, why preferred to 

those of 


science - 

- 

168, 

169 

Works of entertainment, their execution difficult 

202 

superficial and profound 

175 

Writers, two species of 

- 

- 

ib. 


Writers, two species of 


INDEX TO AUTHORS, 


Addison 

- 

87, 103, 

159, 

166, 198, 250, 259 

Akenside 

- 

- 

- 

97, 141,221 

Anacreon 

- 

- 

- 

258 

Arabian Nights Entertainments, authors of - 211 

Archimedes 

Ariosto 

- 


- 

127 

203,209,210,212 

Aristophanes - 

- 


- 

258 

Aristotle 

- 


108, 

140, 169, 170, 194 

Bacon 

. 



- 169, 170 

Beattie 

- 



110,189, 194 

Bisset 

- 



171 

Blackmore 

- 



46 

Bolingbroke • 

- 



- 133,201 

Boyardo 

- 



210 

Bunyan 

- 



209 

Burke 

- 



40,89, 171 

Burns 

- 



44 

Butler 

- 



134,203, 263 

Campbell 

- 



75, 198 

Cervantes 

- 



209 

Cjesar 

- 



- 108,140 






TNDEX TO AUTHORS, 


Chesterfield 

- 

- 

249 

Cicero 

- 

- 

251 

Copernicus 

- 

- 

52 

Crabbe 

- 

- 

151 

Cumberland 

- 

- 

259 

Demosthenes 


_ 

71, 108, 127, 171, 197 

Descartes 

- 

- 

SI, 169, 170 

Draper 

- 

- 

176 

Dryden 

- 

- 

116,209,258 

Euclid 

- 

- 

104 

yielding 

_ 

, 

159 

Foote 

- 

- 

249 

Gall 



235 

Galileo 

- 

- 

52 

Garrick 

- 

- 

231 

Goldsmith 

- 

- 

j> 

T* 

l-H 

1 

1 

t 

Gray 

- 

- 

164 

Hamilton, Count 

- 

174 

Handel 

- 

- 

236 

Harris 

- 

- 

257,261 

Hawkesworth 


- 

198 

Helvetius 

- 

- 

157 

Homer 

- 

29, 

140, 194, 201,208, 213 — 221, 248 

Hume 

- 

- 

88, 116, 154, 157, 182, 200 


Johnson 


100, 135, 142, 149, 159, 163, 166, 178, 185, 187, 
197, 198, 21 4, 229, 245, 249, 259 


INDEX TO AUTHORS.' 

Junius - - - 45,51,87,127,171,259 


Kaimes 

- 

- 

- 

- 

- 

173 

King of Prussia 

- 

- 

- 

- 

128, 141 

Locke 

71,88, 

104, 138, 156, 

169, 

170, 176, 

201,248 

Longinus 

- 

- 

- 

- 

29, 89, 

123, 197 

Lucan 

- 

- 

- 

- 

- 

209 

Mackintosh 

. 

. 

. 

_ 

_ 

178 

Malthus 


- 

- 

• - 

- 

173 

Mansfield 

- 

- 

- 

- 

- 

245 

Milton 

47, 127, 

158, 185, 194,201,212- 

*223,248 

Montesquieu 


- 

- 

- 

- 

134,259 

Nettleton 

_ 

. 

. 

- 

. 

261 

Newton 

- 

46, 

47, 52,81, 

127, 

169, 170, 

201,248 

Ossian 

_ 



_ 


43 

Ovid 

- 

- 

- 

- 

* 

203 

Pope 22,46, 

91,97, 

115 

:, 116, 127, 

132, 

140, 149, 

151,159, 




163, 165, 

183, 

209,211, 

223, 259 

Rabelais 

_ 

_ 

_ 

_ 


211 

Ramsay 

- 

- 

- 

- 

- 

177 

Reynolds 

- 

- 

- 

- 

- 

- 230 

Robertson 

- 

- 

- 

- 

- 

116 

Rochefoucault 


- 

- 

- 

- 

59 

Rousseau 

_ 

• 

_ 

. 

- 

194 


Shakespeare 


47, 154, 158, 186, 203,211, 218, 232, 260 


INDEX TO AUTHORS. 


Shenstone 

- 

- 

- 

164 

Sheridan 

- 

- 

- 

259 

Spenser 

- 

- 

- 

205 

Sterne 

- 

- 

- 

156, 174,196, 197 

Swift 

- 

- 

- 

106, 135, 190,209,211 

Tasso 


_ 


209 

Thomson 

- 

- 

- 

158, 164,260 

Virgil 

- 

- 

. 

50, 209 

Voltaire 

- 

■ - 

- 

81, 149, 174,247 

Watts 

. 

_ 


189 

Whiston 

- 

- 

- 

46 


ERRATUM. 

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